Fifty Shades of Anger Management
by FiftyShadesOfJess
Summary: When Christian had his heart broken by his high-school sweetheart Ana, he eventually turned to BDSM as a way to deal with the pain and the anger it caused. But how efficient will his anger management methods prove to be when he's faced with the girl that broke him? Can she fix him or will he break her in return?
1. Chapter 1

I originally wrote this story as a Gilmore Girls fanfic (and will keep updating that version to alongside with this). But to be honest: that fandom doesn't have as many active readers as this and as a result I felt I tended to prioritize my Fifty Shades-stories because they rendered more feedback.  
I didn't like that, because as much as I love my other stories this one is my baby; my reason for even creating an account – so I changed a few things, wrote a backstory to fit Ana and Christian into the plot and will make a couple of changes along the way.  
Both their backgrounds will differ a lot from the original story (all which will be revealed as the story evolves), but all in all they will mostly be the same characters (although maybe a bit tainted by Jess and Rory).

I'm a little unsure whether you're allowed to do this, to post two similar stories in two different fandoms – if anyone's heard of it not being permitted, please let me know!

**Disclaimer:** The characters belong to E.L James and two pieces of dialogue in the first chapter belongs to Amy Sherman Palladino who created Gilmore Girls.

* * *

**Anger Management – Chapter 1**

Christian

* * *

I turn off my computer and lean my head in my hands. Why does the past always have to come back to haunt you in one way or the other?

Is that the price you have to pay for having loved someone – to always have the threat of them coming back to haunt you hanging over your head even long after the love have withered and died?

My past reared it's not-so-ugly face in the form of an email that caused unwelcome scenes from my past to sneak their way into places I've banned them from a long time ago. Did we even ever stand a chance?

* * *

_"College isn't for me, Ana" I look into her eyes, willing her to understand where I'm coming from. I know college and education is important to her, I just wish she could understand that I don't feel the same way._

_"Why not?" She furrows her eyebrows as she looks at me._

_I sigh. We've been through this so many times before. "Ask my mother, she could give you a couple of reasons"_

_Yeah, if my mother ever pulled her head out of the bottle long enough to care; she could probably scrap up a dozen reasons. The same way she scrapped up a dozen reasons to send me to live with her brother and his family in this shitty little town in the middle of nowhere; also known as Stars Hollow in the state of Connecticut._

_I scoff. "Better yet – ask your mother. She doesn't know me all that well, but I'm sure she could improvise a few things."_

_Ana's mother has had it out for me ever since I first set foot in their house. I honestly don't know why. But that's not what is important here – what is important is that everyone but Ana can clearly see that I'm not destined for college._

_Ana rolls her eyes, but doesn't say anything. Apparently her mother told her when we started dating that she would give me the benefit of the doubt and Ana believes that to be true. Of course, she hasn't seen the looks Carla's shooting me whenever she thinks no one's looking._

_I move closer to her on the couch. "Hey, come on. Stop pouting." I say before I lean in to kiss the corner of her mouth. _

_I feel her lips twitching into a smile, but she pushes me back. She's not done discussing this yet. I sigh. "This is important Christian." I tilt my head and smirk at her, trying to distract her from her annoying habit of not letting things go. "You have to go to college."_

_"No" I smirk again. "You have to go to college." I take her hands in mine and start kissing her knuckles as I continue in a playful tone of voice: "You go to college, become the next Christiane Amapour – reporting on world news, and I'll be standing on the side-lines cheering you on – pompoms in hand and all."_

_She slumps her head to the side and opens her mouth to speak, so I decide to beat her to it. We are done discussing the topic of me going to college. "You know what? I'll help you practice. We can start tomorrow; you'll stand in the middle of the street and I will drive straight at you, screaming in a foreign language"_

_Ana laughs and shakes her head. Mission accomplished. I move closer again and kiss her and this time she doesn't push me back._

* * *

I lean my head back and sigh. As it turned out; I wasn't going to be the one on the side-lines holding the pompoms. Before her first year at Yale came to an end, the struggles to maintain a long-distance relationship and keep up with her studies at the same time got to be too much for her. _Or at least that's what she claimed._

An uneasy feeling that I worked so hard to repress starts spreading in my stomach as I remember how her lies unfolded before my eyes about seven months after our breakup.

I had tried so hard to be strong, to give her space. For seven fucking months I sat in my apartment pining for her, hoping she'd come to her senses and call me to take it all back; to say that she missed me too much. I was a zombie; I did nothing but work and pine for seven long fucking months.

Apparently, the break-up wasn't as hard on her as it was on me, because when I finally caved in and drove to her dorm room at Yale to beg her to take me back I saw _him_ dropping her off after what appeared to be a date.

I sat on a bench outside her dorm for two hours after _he_ left, trying to calm myself down. _It didn't work very well._

* * *

_Ana stares at me, stunned, when she opens the door. She's so fucking beautiful it takes my breath away. I quickly retrieve it though, as I remember the reason for her looking so beautiful tonight._

_"Had a nice date?" I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm._

_She looks perplexed. "How did…?" She clears her throat. "What are you doing here Christian?"_

_"Watching your new boyfriend walk you home after what I assume was a lovely date, apparently" I answer and her eyes widen._

_"It's not like that, Christian." Her voice sounds beaten._

_"No?" Even I can hear the anger seeping through my gritted teeth. "Tell me what it's like then."_

_She sighs and throws her hands out. "Uncomplicated" She offers and I stare at her incredulously. _

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_She bows her head down and lets out another sigh. "You and I…it's so intense, so all-consuming. This is not. This is…" She shakes her head again. "Uncomplicated" She repeats the word again. _

_I raise my eyebrows. "And I'm complicated?" I scoff. "Or is the issue really me not attending a fancy college?"_

_Ana sighs and in that instant I know that no matter the reason; I'm history. _

* * *

She didn't stop at that though. That wasn't enough breaking for her. _No._ She wasn't content only breaking my heart – apparently she needed to rip it out and stomp on the pieces as well.

I guess I was begging for it by sending her an invitation to the launch party my cousin Mia threw when I, after years of hard work, finally started my own company. I should have known better. But I guess the need to show her everything I'd become, everything I'd accomplished, since she last saw me was too over-powering.

Well, at least she waited until everyone had left before she began her torture – I have to give her that.

* * *

_"I'm glad you came" I can't stop smiling. She's here. After all this time, she's finally come back to me._

_"Yeah, me too" She smiles as well and guided by the magnetic pull that always seems to appear whenever she's close, I lean in to kiss her._

_Our lips barely touch before Ana suddenly pulls back. "I'm sorry." She practically flies up from her seat and starts pacing._

_I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I open them again, fighting to hide my disappointment. "About what?" I stand up as well, watching her nervous pacing._

_She stops and throws her hands out. "About coming here like this. I just…I got the invitation and…I don't know." She covers her face with her hands and when she removes them, she's shaking her head from side to side, a sad look on her face that sends not-so-pleasant shivers throughout my body. _

_"I just wanted to see this…" She gestures to the room we're standing in. "…to see you."She shakes her head again and closes her eyes for a few seconds. "But then…it's not fair to you. I'm such a jerk!"_

_I move closer and place a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. "You're not making any sense, Ana."_

_She inhales a deep breath before words come spluttering out of her mouth. "I couldn't even cheat on him the way he cheated on me"_

_I think this is what it must feel like to be hit by lighting. "Who?" I can hardly form the words. "Who cheated on you?"_

_Pain starts spreading in my chest. Am I having a heart attack? No. I'm too young._

_Ana doesn't answer, but the guilty look on her face says it all. _

_Oh, God. It isn't a heart attack – it is my heart being ripped out of my chest._

_"That guy," It's a wonder the pain doesn't display in my voice. How come I can sound so normal when everything I hoped and wished for are crashing down around me?_

_She nods and I swallow down the cries of pain that are threatening to make their way up my throat. This isn't supposed to happen. I became everything she wanted. I went to college. I took business-classes and became successful. This is not how this was supposed to go down._

_"I thought that was supposed to be uncomplicated" It's hard not to notice the bitterness in my voice and Ana cringes at my words. "Just having fun with no strings attached," I repeat the words she told me. _

_Ana shrugs. "I'm sorry."_

_I feel nauseated. She didn't come here because she wanted to be with me – finally after all this time. No. She came here because she wanted to use me. She wanted to use me to get back at her cheating boyfriend. I feel like I might throw up._

_What nauseates me the most is the knowledge that I would have let her. I would do anything for her to be mine again, even just for a night._

_The nausea gives way for a righteous anger. Of all the people she could have thought of to use for this purpose – she had to go rip my heart out? Wasn't it enough that she already broke it?_

_"I don't deserve this, Ana." _

_"No, you don't." Tears start spilling from her eyes. "You don't deserve it." She buries her face in her hands again and sobs. Neither of us says anything for the longest time; we simply stand there in silence until she removes her hands from her face. "I just…" She takes a deep breath and her voice is steadier when she continues. "…I'm in love with him. Despite all the bad he's done." She shakes her head again. "I can't help it. I'm in love with him."_

_"Love, huh?" I can't believe how calm I sound – I feel anything but. My Ana – the only girl I've ever loved – is in love with someone else, someone else that apparently cheats on her._

_"Yeah." The sadness in her voice pains me even more than my crushed hopes. I hate seeing her sad. _

_"I guess I'd better go." Her eyes are focused on the floor as she speaks._

_I nod. "Okay."_

_ No. Don't go. Stay. Stay forever. I don't care if you don't love me anymore. Stay. Please stay. I need you. You're my reason for breathing._

_Without uttering any of my pleas, I watch her turn around and leave. _

_She lingers a moment with her hand on the doorknob. "I'm sorry, Christian, for everything." She whispers before she walks out the door and leaves me alone with the hurt and the pain._

_I fall to my knees and let my tears fall freely, __hoping it will relieve some of the unbearable pain._

* * *

It took time, but I managed to get back on my feet even after that blow. You can't argue with love, right? And she loved the cheating bastard – or at least that's what she claimed.

I slam my fist against the desk. _Fuck!_ I had gotten past all this. I had reconciled with the fact that Ana was nothing but a compulsive liar, destroying every man that dared to love her.

Yeah, Carrick told me how she destroyed Logan – the cheating boyfriend – as well. Of course, he didn't use those words. No. Everyone in that idyllic little small town thinks she's the sweetest angel to ever walk the earth. Even Carrick and Grace have always _understood_ her reasons for breaking up with me. Isn't that just fucking great? Why didn't anyone _understand_ how fucking hurt I was? I guess no one cared; the story of my life.

"Mr. Grey?" Taylor appears at the open door to my office.

"Yes, Taylor?"

"Miss Sparks is in the elevator on her way up." He informs me and I feel a smile forming on my lips. I could really use the distraction right now.


	2. Chapter 2

As I mentioned in the previous chapter, this is an adaption of a story I wrote for a different fandom – if there's anything you find that doesn't make sense or you feel doesn't get properly explained – let me know and I'll try to rectify it!

* * *

**Anger Management – Chapter 2**

Christian

* * *

I don't need a fucking psychiatrist to tell me why I do this. I know very well why I'm doing this. You don't need a degree to understand that it is because of _her_ I'm doing this; because _she_ left and took everything with her. The only things _she _left behind were anger and pain, and so I've formed my existence around those remains.

"Please, Sir" The girl on the bed whimpers and her pleading voice snaps me out of my thoughts and brings me back to reality.

I take a step back to indulge in the sight of this beautiful brunette spread across my bed, her entire body shivering with desire. Desire for me. I smirk.

Her hands are steadily tied to the bedposts. _Yes, you can't escape now, can you?_ I think to myself as I step closer to her, noticing how her body stiffens in anticipation as the sound of my footsteps catch her attention.

I bend down over her naked body and with soft, tender movements I let my fingers trace a pattern, starting at the point of her neck where I can feel her pulse racing under my touch, continuing slowly down towards her breasts and a smile creeps onto my lips as I feel her twitch and try to shift her body to change the predestined pattern of my fingers to run over her breasts instead of through the valley between them.

"Be still" I order and she obeys instantly. Yes, I've learned through years of experience how to give orders that won't be questioned.

If only I'd had that experience back then… Maybe I could have ordered _her_ to stay. I shake that annoying thought away and try to focus on the task at hand.

"Please" She begs again and I smirk, halting my fingers halfway down her belly. Her body stiffens when she realizes her mistake. _Yes, Miss Sparks, where have you manners gone? Lost in the haze of lust?_

"…Sir…" She adds, her breath shaky as she utters that one little word. That one little word that tells me I'm in control. In control of her, of her body, her mind…everything I could ever wish to be in control of. Except…it's the wrong girl. It always is.

_Focus_, I command myself as I lean forward to let her know her little slip hasn't gone by unnoticed. _Damn_, I have to take a deep breath to keep my cool. This exact moment always put my self-control to a hard test, almost as hard certain parts of my body; this moment when the decision lies in my hands whether to punish her slip or to offer her the release she's so desperately yearning for.

"A little late, don't you think Miss Sparks?" I whisper, close to her ear before I bend down and nibble her earlobe, just a little bit too hard to be a loving gesture. I'm rewarded with a drawn out moan. _Yes, she loves this every bit as much as I do… The anticipation…_

"I'm sorry Sir" She tries to oblige me and for a split second I regret my decision to blindfold her. I would have loved to see that remorse mirrored in her eyes, that eagerness to please me.

I let my finger run slowly, teasingly between her hipbones, just out of reach for the spot she wants me to touch, lingering in the moment… _Ah, to punish or to pleasure… _I inhale a deep breath of air.

Her slip isn't one that I would normally care to punish. She did find her manners rather quickly when she realized it. But today…I nod to myself, having made up my mind…Today, I think a proper round of punishing might do me good.

* * *

After seeing to that Lana was okay after our little session, I settle into my home office to check my e-mail. Theoretically, I'm supposed to have the weekends off, but my staff doesn't always seem to understand that. I skim through the e-mails, but I don't find anything urgent regarding the company.

I sigh and lean back into my chair. I went too far in my punishment today. I was out of control. I never lose control with my sub-missives. I never lose control period.

It's _her_ fault. _She_ made me lose control.

I glance at the computer screen and I see _her_ name among the received e-mails. _Anastasia Steele_. It stands out as if it were written with huge, neon lights.

I close my eyes to avoid seeing it and pictures flashes before my eyes, Pictures of Lana's naked behind, bending over the leathered bench in my playroom. Only…it isn't Lana I see. It's _her_.

It's _her_, leaning forward in submission, accepting the punishment for leaving and causing all that pain. And I can't stop. Red mark after red mark rises on her pale skin and I can't stop. It isn't until I hear Lana shouting her safe-word that I finally find the strength to stop my punishment.

I've never taken it that far before. Usually I can read my sub-missives like an open book and I know not to push them too far. But this time…

I have to make it up to Lana later. Pleasure and pain. _Yes, but not that kind of pain. Pain under control. Not uncontrolled pain._

I'm surprised she didn't terminate our contract on the spot. She would have every right to. I'm not allowed to lose control like that. She's supposed to feel that she can trust me. She has to be safe in the certainty that I can handle the control.

I open my eyes and lean forward to yet again read the e-mail that caused me lose my precious self-control.

* * *

From: Anastasia Steele  
Subject: Coffee  
Date: May 5th 2012 15:12  
To: Christian Grey

Hi,

I know it's been years, but I got to thinking about you earlier today.

I'm back in the U.S and was wondering if you'd like to grab a cup of coffee and maybe catch up?

I'm in New York Tuesday - Thursday, I have some interviews booked, but hopefully we could find time for coffee.

Anastasia Steele

* * *

I sigh again. Coffee. Catch up. Yeah…I can imagine that catch up conversation…

_"__So Christian, what's new in your life?"_

_"__Well, you see Ana, I've gotten myself a new little hobby…"_

_"__A hobby you say…"_

_"__Yes, you see…I've found out that tying up, spanking and whipping girls with certain features that resembles yours gives me a great outlet for all the pain you left me in and the anger that stemmed from it…"_

I shake my head.

I have tried so many different ways to find an outlet for all the pain and the anger she left me with. I've tried writing about it, my usual emotional outlet. But writing reminded me too much of _her_, and besides, my editor wasn't thrilled about my sudden need to fill my characters with anger and their actions with violence.

I don't write anymore. Writing doesn't offer any outlet for the anger and the pain. If anything, it enlarges the anger and the pain, gives them more space to roam freely.

The sessions with my sub-missives in my carefully appointed playroom is the closest I've ever come to release some of the pain and anger; releasing it onto someone else, someone with brown hair resembling _hers_ and a set of full lips of just the right color.

But never blue eyes, I remind myself.

No, I draw the line at blue eyes. They're a certain deal-breaker. I couldn't stand having her blue eyes staring at me, boring into my soul, as I give way to my pain and anger in my own, twisted version of anger management.

As if on their own accord, my fingers dart to the keyboard and I start typing an answer.

* * *

From: Christian Grey  
Subject: Re: Coffee  
Date: May 6th 2012 19:15  
To: Anastasia Steele

Miss Steele,

Let me know when you're free and I'll make sure to clear my schedule.

Christian Grey  
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

I have to admit, it fills me with a weird sense of satisfaction referring to her as Miss Steele, the way I always refer to my subs using their last name.

Without giving me enough time to think or change my mind, I hit send.

I lean back in my chair again, feeling a hint of a smile creeping onto my lips. _So you were thinking about me Miss Steele… I wonder what those thoughts might have been… Surely not the kind of thoughts I have about you…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Anger Management – Chapter 3  
**

Christian

* * *

Slowly pushing the door open, my eyes fall on the bed and the girl, curled up beneath the covers on it. Her brown hair is splayed across the pillow and her eyes are closed. For a second I feel like maybe I should leave her alone, let her sleep. But I can't…

I might have made control into the most important thing in my life. And I do take honor in the fact that I am in control, not only in control of her and my company, but in control of myself as well. But still, I'm not too conceited to admit that I'm human as well.

I do make mistakes and at times, I do fail. But the thing is…when you're in control, when you have power, your mistakes and failures affect those that have granted you that control and that power.

Quietly, I move closer to the bed. I have to apologize.

"Lana?" I sit down on the bed next to her and meet her sparkling green eyes as she looks up at me. _So she wasn't sleeping…_

"Sir" She replies and I force my lips into what I hope is a reassuring smile.

"I just wanted to see whether you were still okay after what happened in the playroom earlier" I reach my hand out and trace my fingers along her arm with soft, gentle strokes.

I want her to feel secure enough with me to be able to tell me if she feels uncomfortable in any way. Trust is the most important aspect in the kind of relation we have engaged in. She has to trust that I can handle the control that she is willingly handing to me. And I have to honor that trust.

"I'm fine, Sir" She nods and smiles and I believe her. I know her all so well by now and her eyes always betray her. She can't lie. Not to me.

I sigh. "I lost control in there Lana. I let circumstances that had nothing to do with you or the scene we played out to get the better of me and I apologize for that" I need her to know that.

"Apology accepted, Sir"

I smile as I lean down and place a soft kiss on her forehead. "I trust you to tell me if anything ever bothers you Miss Sparks"

She nods. "I will, Sir"

With that, I push myself of the bed, making my voice soft and tender as I wish her a good night before I head towards the door.

"Sir?" Her voice stops me as I reach the threshold and I turn around to see her watching me with a curios look on her face.

"Yes Lana?" I offer her permission to speak.

"May I ask what the circumstances that made you lose control were?"

I sigh and close my eyes for a few seconds. I have to say something. Something close to the truth, to assure her that she didn't fail in any way. Not tonight. I did.

I run a hand through my hair as I try to sort out how to phrase my words. "Demons from the past" I offer as an explanation and she tilts her head as she keeps her eyes lingering on me.

No, Lana. Don't do that. Don't try to figure me out.

"Don't worry" I assure her. "I won't let it happen again"

As I close the door behind me I can hear my subconscious scoffing at me. _You won't let it happen again? You're meeting your demon from the past over coffee… _He scoffs again. _If an e-mail caused you to lose control, what do you expect seeing her in person will do to you?_

* * *

In the middle of the night, I suddenly wake up, drenched in sweat and with a pounding heart, haunted by those big, bright blue eyes.

_Those, lying, deceiving, cheating big, bright blue eyes,_ my subconscious carefully reminds me.

No, not cheating, I argue with him. _She_ didn't cheat. Said _she_ couldn't. Said _she_ loved_ him_ too much.

_But she lied…_ He whispers. _She lied…_

I push myself up to a sitting position on the side of the bed. I need a smoke. And a drink.

_Drinking? Really?_ My subconscious mocks me. _Haven't you tried that already? Didn't help much now, did it?_

I want to tell him to shut up, to go back to bed and leave me the hell alone, but I know it's useless.

_Of course it's useless…You're talking to yourself, Grey…_

Yeah…crazy…yet another thing she left behind…

After pouring myself a glass of whiskey, I head out to the balcony to clear my head in the fresh air.

_She's been thinking about you_, a tiny voice whispers from beyond the grave.

_Ignore him!_ My subconscious shouts. _He breaks too easily! He's gone! Dead! She killed him with her lies!_

I have to side with my subconscious on this one. He's dead. My heart is dead and buried. I can hear him utter a deep sigh as he resigns back into his grave.

_That's good Christian_, my subconscious encourages me. _Let him rest in peace. Never forget The Betrayal that finally killed him._

There's no chance I'll ever forget that, I promise him as I take one last breath of fresh air, down the last of my whiskey and make my way back into bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Anger Management – Chapter 4  
**

Anastasia

* * *

Walking down the streets of New York leading to my hotel, I take delight in the fact that I'm doing just that; walking the streets of New York. I'm home.

Well, not really home as I've never lived in New York. But still…I'm walking on U.S soil. My entire body is bubbling with sheer bliss, I almost feel high. Not that I would have any experience with that feeling, but I can imagine this is how it feels to be high.

For the last four years I've been on the road, travelled from country to country, reporting on world news. To be accurate, I've been on the road for a total of five years, starting with a year of travelling from state to state reporting on Obama's campaign.

I don't regret any of it. On the contrary, I have loved every single second of it. The things I've seen, the things I've experienced.

I've shook hands with the President of the United States! Well, he wasn't president yet when we shook hands, but still…I've shook the Presidents hand. I've seen the sun set and rise in a bundle of countries. I've seen most of the sights I spent my teenage years reading and dreaming about. I've heard so many different languages spoken around me and have picked up a few words in most of them.

It's been exciting, challenging and absolutely wonderful!

_"__May I ask what made you decide to leave the road, Miss Steele?"_

The question I got towards the end of my latest interview suddenly pops back into my head and I sigh, my previous fantastic mood suddenly darkened.

Yeah, what was it that made me decide to leave? I shrug my shoulders as I keep walking. I don't know for sure. I can't explain it.

Maybe it was the way everyone had kept living their lives while I was away. All of the friends I still have contact with back home have moved forward; building homes, careers, families – a life. And what have I done? Collected experiences?

In a way I envy them. Who could have guessed that I, Anastasia I-wanna-see-the-world Steele, would envy those that stayed behind?

It's not that I regret taking the opportunity to see the world. To travel. To go chase the dream I always nourished. I have loved every second of it, I really have.

But still…even though I didn't quite expect the rest of my world to stand still while I was away fulfilling my dreams, I didn't expect it to move quite so fast.

I sigh as I look up and see a couple strolling hand in hand a few steps ahead of me, completely engulfed in each other and oblivious to the world around them.

I want that. Experiences don't keep you warm at night. They don't whisper comforting words and wipe your tears away when you're sad and crying.

I guess I'm finally ready for everything that Logan offered when he proposed after graduation. Although, it still isn't his eyes I see when I dream about my future. The children I imagine having one day doesn't have his blonde hair.

I did the right thing to turn his proposal down, because the eyes I see when I dream about my future aren't blue as the sky – they're gray as steel. I know who they belong to and I also know that they're often accompanied by a smirk that is most definitely irresistible.

I cast one last, longing glance at the couple still strolling hand in hand before I enter the lobby of my hotel.

I guess that's why I e-mailed him, I think to myself as I wait for the elevator to arrive. Because I see him in my dreams and I need to see if my dreams bear any resemblance to reality.

Stepping into the elevator I lean against the wall. _I got to thinking about you earlier today_, I recall the carefully selected words as I lean against the cold walls. What a big, fat lie. I got to thinking about him months ago, even years maybe.

I smile to myself. I know exactly when it was that he came sneaking back into my mind. It was in Germany a little over a year ago; I was having a few days off and had decided to visit the countryside. As I was walking along a street in a small village – I was a little lost I have to admit – with my nose stuck to a map, trying to figure out where I was and where I was going, I accidentally took a small step onto the street and was almost smashed by a rusty little car speeding by.

The car missed me by a few inches and as I stood there, on the side of the road trying to gather myself from the shock almost being run-over, the man in the passenger seat leaned his head out the window and yelled at me in German. I didn't understand a single word.

And then. Right there on the side of the street, I fell into a fit of giggles as I remembered his words.

_You know what? I'll help you practice. We can start tomorrow; you'll stand in the middle of the street and I will drive straight at you, screaming in a foreign language_

At that very moment I wanted to pick up the phone and call him. I wanted to tell him about the man that had just drove straight at me and then screamed at me in a foreign language. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized, that wasn't all I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him about everything I'd seen, everything I'd learned and experienced. I wanted to share it with him.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath as the elevator doors open to my floor. A quick glance at my watch confirms that I still have time to take a quick shower and freshen up on my make-up before I need to get going to meet him for coffee.

There are a million butterflies roaming around in my stomach as I think about it. I haven't seen him since…well, since I broke his heart that night about six years ago.

I throw my purse on the bed and head towards the shower, determined not to think about how we left things. How I left things. I don't need to be any more nervous or anxious than I already am. Besides, if he was still angry and upset about that, he wouldn't have agreed to meet me for coffee, right?

* * *

To satisfy the pressing need to occupy my hands with something as I sit and wait for him to arrive, I am slowly tearing a napkin into tiny little pieces.

_What if he doesn't show up?_

I close my eyes and concentrate on inhaling as I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. _If he doesn't show up_, I think as I slowly exhale and then inhale another deep breath, _I'll just forget all about those dark eyes and brown-haired kids from my dreams and move on._

Determined to do just so, I exhale and open my eyes just in time to see him stepping through the door. My heart falters and stops beating for a split of a second.

Oh my. He's looking gorgeous.

Suddenly very self-conscious, I run a hand over my hair to make sure it's in place and take a quick look down at my clothes. I wish I'd worn the pink sweater.

He looks different somehow. More mature, confident…and undeniably sexy. I blush and quickly shift my gaze to the table and the torn napkin in front of me.

When I feel I'm in control of myself and my face-color again, I dare to look up and my eyes meet his as he is walking over with quick, determined steps. There's a look in his eyes that I don't recognize and for some reason it's making me feel even more uncomfortable and nervous.

"Miss Steele" A tiny little smirk creeps onto his lips as he utters the first words we've spoken to each other in six years.


	5. Chapter 5

This is as far as I've gotten in changing names, character traits and stuff that doesn't match with the background I wrote for Ana and Christian from my original Gilmore Girls story – but there's more to come.

And also: This won't affect the updating of my other stories, as I was already writing alongside this but in another fandom.

**Disclaimer:** The character _Kirk_ that will be mentioned in this chapter belongs to Amy Sherman Palladino and the Gilmore Girls universe.

* * *

**Anger Management – Chapter 5  
**

Christian

* * *

I turn off the computer, push my chair back and run a hand through my hair. I've been working non-stop since 6 AM to make sure I'll be able to leave in time for my coffee date with Anastasia. No, not date – meeting, I remind myself. This is not a date.

I sigh and look around my office. It's an efficient work-space, clean and rid of all personal items, and that's the way I prefer it. I don't need to put any diplomas on the walls to prove to myself and everyone else I'm competent enough to do my job. I know that already. The people I work with know that.

I sigh again. I've come a long way since _she_ last saw me at the launch party and I can't help but wonder what _she_ would think if she saw me like this; in my office, in control, competent and confident.

_I can't help but wonder what she would think if she saw you in your playroom; in control, aroused, competent and confident_. My subconscious lifts his head from the couch he's lying on, smirking.

I smile. Yeah, that would sure shock her. I don't think the innocent little Miss Steele has ever made contact with any of things I have in there. No, I'm confident that she's only ever _made love_.

I scoff. As if _she_ has any idea what love is.

_Well, do you?_ My subconscious is now sitting up on the couch, crossing his legs.

I know enough about love to make sure I steer clear of it, I answer and it seems as if though my answer has pleased him.

In the far corner of the room my subconscious is residing in stands a pale, almost transparent figure, sighing and slowly shaking his head. My subconscious doesn't seem to notice him and I deliberately ignore him.

I take a look at my watch. Showtime. Let's go see what Miss Steele has on the agenda for today.

I've been going over it in my head a thousand times since her e-mail arrived four days ago and I've come to the conclusion that I will see her, listen to what she has to say and then tell her I want nothing more to do with her. Ever.

My subconscious doesn't really agree with my decision, but has resigned into pouting like a petulant three-year-old whenever the subject is brought up.

I grab my coat and leave my office. On my way out I make a quick stop at Andrea's desk.

"Don't forward any calls to me unless it's urgent" I say as I put my coat on and she smiles as she scribbles something on a note-pad. I wish her a good day before I head to the elevator.

* * *

Before I even cross the street to enter the coffee shop, I see her through the window and the sight forces me to stop. It's like I've suddenly forgotten how to breathe. My memories and nightmares hasn't done her justice, I had forgotten just how breathtakingly beautiful she is.

Even at this distance she literally takes my breath away. I close my eyes. Control yourself, Grey. Breath in, hold the breath, breath out. Breath in, hold the breath, breath out.

Slowly, my brain is starting to remember the mechanics of breathing but it's still a struggle, as my throat seems to have gotten too tight for the air to pass through it. I stand on the sidewalk, staring at her through the window as I'm trying to regain control over my body.

Why the hell did I agree to this? I must have been fucking crazy. What good could ever come out of this?

_Maybe I should just leave?_ I've been fighting my subconscious on the matter for the past four days and with that thought he raises his head and takes a step away from the corner he's been pouting in for the last thirty minutes, nodding fervently.

No. Running from your fears is a sign of weakness. And I'm not weak.

This is The Ultimate Test, I tell myself. If I can sit through coffee with the girl that took everything joyful and bright away from my life and left me in the darkness with excruciating pain and anger I can do anything. Yes. I nod to myself as my feet start moving again in the direction of the coffee shop.

My subconscious slowly shakes his head from side to side, but doesn't say anything.

She notices me the second I step through the doors and I see her eyes widen as she looks me over. When our eyes meet, she quickly averts her gaze and runs a hand over her hair and I smile as I realize she's nervous. Good. She should be after everything she's done.

The fact that she's obviously nervous about seeing me gives me the strength I need. I pull my shoulders back and straighten my back. _That's right, Miss Steele, you have every reason to be nervous._

With her eyes distracted elsewhere, I take the opportunity to really look at her. She hasn't changed much. She's older and there's a new kind of maturity in her posture, but she still has that sweet, innocent look about her.

_It's not _real, my subconscious reminds me and I nod to myself in agreement.

That's what makes her so dangerous; that aura of innocence, it's all too easy to get lost in the sweetness of it. It's all too easy to forget who she really is beneath all of that.

As I start walking she looks up again, and this time she doesn't back down when her eyes meet mine. _Oh, those eyes_. They're nothing like the eyes that have haunted me in my nightmares the last couple of nights since I received her e-mail. No. They're amazing. Suddenly I feel like I'm seventeen again and am seeing them for the first time.

_One foot in front of the other, keep walking. Don't let her know she has any effect on you whatsoever_, my subconscious kindly offers me the guidance I need.

I send him a thankful thought as I follow his advice and keep walking with a newfound determination. I **will not** let her get to me.

"Miss Steele" I greet her when I reach the table and I cannot fully repress the smirk creeping onto my lips due to the connotations the word holds for me.

She seems to lose herself for a few seconds, my formal introduction having confused her, no doubt. "Christian?"

_Oh no, Miss Steele, that's not the way I want my girls to greet me._

_Good thing she isn't your girl then_, my subconscious points out, his tone sour and strained. _Nor will she ever be. _

_I know, _I assure him. _Just let me have some fun._

With the undeniable look of someone who knows better, he tilts his head to the side. I ignore him. I know what I'm doing here.

Without saying anything to relieve the tension caused by my formality, I sit down on the chair across the table from her and lean against the backrest. Silence ensues.

I watch in amusement as she starts picking on the remains of a napkin; her eyes flitting between the torn pieces and my eyes. She called to this meeting and I decide it's up to her to break the silence, and frankly, I enjoy watching her in all of her discomfort.

_That's right!_ My subconscious cheers on, finally catching on to my intentions. _Let her sweat! _

My heart shakes his head and then tilts it slightly to the side as if to say 'come on!', but he still doesn't utter a word.

"This feels weird" She finally says, trying to break the silence.

As a compromise between my heart and my subconscious, I nod to myself and utter a simple: "Huh"

A glint has appeared in her eyes as she looks up at me. "Still doing the monosyllabic thing?" She asks, smiling. My thrifty attitude towards nonsense small-talk is something that has always amused her.

_Still doing the lying thing?_

It's a hard battle not to become enchanted by that smile and offer her one in return. Instead, I shrug my shoulders, determined not to make this easy on her. "At times"

She squirms in her seat, my unwillingness to help her out in starting a conversation obviously making her feel very uncomfortable.

_If only you knew all the ways I could make your body squirm like that out of pleasure_, my mind drifts away on its own. _With my hands, with my tongue, with my words, with any number of toys…with my cock._ I feel my lips turning into a smile.

_What the fuck is that?_ I won't ever engage in getting her body to squirm out of anything other than being uncomfortable and nervous in my presence. I wipe the smile off my face and clear my throat.

"So…" I force an amicable expression onto my face. "…what've you been up to these last couple of years?"

I hate that I'm relieving her uncomfortable, nervous state of mind. I hate that she might think I'm interested in what she's been doing. _Because I really couldn't care less even if I tried_. But I need some time to set my mind straight and getting her to talk is the easiest way to do that.

_You're almost as great a liar as she is_, my subconscious looks worried. No need to worry, I tell him. I've got it under control. I always have it under control. Everything.

He rolls his eyes and I ignore him. I can't deal with him right now; I need to deal with my wayward thoughts.

She's talking about some sort of campaign. Oh, yeah….Obama's campaign. Carrick told me her mother had said something about that when they met at a town function.

As she speaks I take the opportunity to really look at her. As I've already stated, she hasn't changed much. Her hair is longer and maybe darker since last time I saw her, but it looks good. The darkness in her hair accentuates her eyes and makes them, if possible, shine even more.

No. What am I doing? I'm supposed to take this time to set my thoughts straight – not let them wander freely.

I divert my eyes from her face. Her face is dangerous ground, it always has been.

Instead my gaze lands on her upper-body, which is about all I can see as the table conceals the rest of her body. She's wearing a black sweater that covers most of her skin and I'm thankful for that. _Not that I think the sight of her soft skin would actually make me lose control. _Of course not. I'm stronger than that. But still, I'm glad I don't have to put my precious self-control through that test…

I listen with half an ear as she talks about life on the campaign tour; every now and then I inject some encouraging sounds to keep her talking. I need more time. Never mind what I said about her sweater not exposing any skin…the way it's clinging tight around her body, showing every delicious curve of her body is strangely enough even more distracting.

I smile absent-mindedly as she talks about this quirky photographer figure that she was on the campaign with.

She would really look amazing stretched out on my bed with her hands tied to the posts of it and begging me to touch her; her hair in a mess, framing that innocent little face and her eyes burning with desire…

_Where the hell did that come from?_ I try to shake it away.

Focus, Grey. What is she saying? Something about the photographer I think.

"…and then he tells me he has a brother that lives in Connecticut…." Her words seem to be coming from some place far away and I have a hard time focusing on them.

…Or maybe leaning forward across the bench in my playroom with that perfectly shaped ass unclothed and unprotected as she owns up to her lies and asks me to punish her for them…

I close my eyes and swallow the saliva that's been gathering in my mouth. I'm practically seconds away from drooling. I need to regain control over my thoughts. _Why is that so hard around her?_

I notice her rambling has come to an end and she's watching me intently. _With those eyes._ It's like they're hypnotic and again I have to force myself to tear my gaze away from them. I could easily get lost in those eyes. To my great horror I find that there's nothing I would want more in this moment than to allow myself to get completely lost in her eyes. _Disturbing thought. Very disturbing._

"Doesn't that sound familiar?" She asks and I have no idea what she's referring to. My thoughts have distracted me so I completely missed the punch line in her story about the quirky photographer.

Luckily, she's too excited about the story she's telling to notice I'm not quite following. _Fuck, she's attractive when she gets excited like that!_

No. Don't even go there.

"Why did you invite me for coffee?" I ask and notice how she tenses at the harsh tone in my voice. Yes, I'm angry, but mostly at myself for not being able to control my thoughts. And for agreeing to see her in the first place.

_The ultimate test_…Yeah, and I'm about to fail. Big time. I never fail.

Her eyes widen as she looks at me, guess she didn't expect that one coming. Neither did I, but now it's out there. "I-I…" She stutters, nervously wringing her hands in front of her.

My face hardens as I realize I'm actually nervous about her answer. No. I don't get nervous. My subconscious has put on a gas mask and is heading towards my stomach with a bottle of pesticide. I'm glad we're on the same side.

"…I just wanted to see you again" She spits the words out fast and then focuses her eyes on the table top.

I nod. I like that she's nervous, that makes it easier for me to gain the upper-hand, to stay in control. The pesticide seems to have had the desired effect; I'm back in control. I won't let it slip away again.

"It's just…" She continues when I don't say anything. She's a talkative person and silences bother her. It's amazing what you can get her to say only by the simple means of not helping her out in filling the silences. I learned that ages ago, back when I first met her.

"…we left on such bad terms last time…" I raise my eyebrow at that. _If I remember correctly, it was you that left, Miss Steele._

_Left with a lie_, my subconscious fills in, our team-work on exterminating those butterflies seems to have made him forget all about our disagreement earlier and I'm thankful. I need him to remind me of who the woman sitting across the table really is. It's all too obvious I can't seem to remember that by myself.

"…I guess I just wanted to make sure we were okay" Her voice seems to have decreased into an almost whispering state as she utters those last words and I almost choke on my coffee.

Okay? _She_ wanted to make sure we were _okay_?

I force a couple of deep breaths into my lungs and as my boiling blood calms down a few notches I have to repress a scoff. In what universe did she ever think that we could be _okay_ after what she did? After the way she lied to me.

"Okay?" I repeat the offending word once I'm sure I've got my voice under control.

She looks like she's about to cry. _Please don't. I can't handle crying and I really don't want to tell you we're okay. Because we're not. Far from it._

"I'm sorry" She whispers. "About everything"

"I survived" I offer, hoping that that will distract her from the fact that I haven't said we're okay or accepted her apology. Because I really can't do either.

She nods, but doesn't say anything further.

In one large gulp, I down the last of my coffee. "I walk you back to your hotel" I offer, decided to cut this meeting short.

She looks fazed, but doesn't argue as she pushes her cup to the side and starts gathering her things.

I look away as she stands up. I can't afford to put any further strain on my self-control. It's better not to risk it.

"How did you know I stay in a hotel?" She asks as we exit onto the street.

"I guessed" I answer shortly.

"Oh" She looks down at her feet. Truth is; I had Welch look it up. Knowledge is power, and around her I need to gather every last shred of it I can find.

She knits hey eyebrows together as I take the lead, walking in the direction of her hotel, but she doesn't say anything when she falls into step next to me.

I grant myself permission to glance at her as she walks next to me, seemingly absorbed in her own thoughts, and I can't help but feel like I'm nineteen again and I vividly remember how my heart jumped around with glee as she drove from Yale every weekend to come see me, here in New York.

Although, there's no denying my fantasies about what I want to do to her have changed slightly over the years…

"It was Kirk's older brother, by the way" She suddenly says and I'm lost.

"What?" I turn my head to look at her. She's smiling as she looks up from the sidewalk.

"The quirky photographer on the campaign" She explains. "Turned out to be Kirk's older brother"

"Huh" I neither can't nor won't repress the smile that makes its way to my lips. _Kirk has a brother?_

Kirk is this really strange character living in the town I was exiled to at sixteen when my mother claimed she couldn't handle my insubordinate behavior any longer and dumped me on her brother Carrick and his wife Grace.

I can't even count the times Ana and I have spent laughing at all of his antics. _That was back when life was simpler. Before she started lying._

"Weird, huh?" Her smile is shy and I feel something warm growing in my chest.

_Careful_, my subconscious warns me. _This is how she lures you in. Don't fall for it._

I'm not falling for it, I tell him. It's just…come on, _Kirk_ has a _brother_, working as a photographer on the Obama campaign with Ana…You got to admit that's at least a little bit funny!

_I'm not talking about you finding her story funny_, he retorts without changing his stern expression.

Again, he's right. It's been proven again and again how easy it is to get carried away in her presence.

Right then, her hand brushes softly against mine as she moves slightly to the side to give space to a man in a business suit passing by us and there's a rush of electricity jolting through my entire body. By a simple touch. That's ridiculous.

But I can't help but wonder if she felt it too…

_Of course she did_, my heart's calm voice tries to win me over and he smiles at me for the first time in years.

My subconscious snaps his head in my heart's direction so fast I'm worried his neck will break, finally taking notice of his presence. _Who brought you back from the dead?_ He glares at my heart with pure hatred in his eyes.

Instead of answering, my heart simply smiles at him. We all know the answer. _She_ did. Just like she did the first time we met. He was dead back then too, but she brought him back to life.

"Here we are" Her voice shifts my focus from the staring match going on inside my head and back to her as she gestures towards a hotel building behind her.

I nod. So this it. I've made it through to the end of it with all limbs still intact. Even more important: with my self-control still intact. There have been a few close calls, but the important thing is: I haven't lost it.

Reassured that I have actually passed The Ultimate Test, I feel secure enough to offer her a small smile. She returns the smile and I feel like I've just been hit by a train.

The situation we're in; me, walking her to her hotel, she, standing so close to me I can feel the smell of her shampoo, the smiles we've exchanged. I haven't passed The Ultimate Test just yet…

The smile still lingers on her lips as she watches me. It feels like the end of a date and I desperately want to close that tiny little distance between us and allow myself to get lost in rediscovering her lips, her mouth and her tongue.

Oh, the temptation.

_Get yourself together Grey! _My subconscious shouts, ripping me away from daydreaming about her sweet, delicious-looking lips and how they would feel against mine. _She broke you!_ He continues._ It was those lips you're drooling over that uttered the lies that broke you!_

I take a deep breath. He's right. I can't afford to lose control. Not now, not with her around. I'm so close to passing The Ultimate Test I can almost taste the sweet glory of victory.

"So…" I force my voice to sound casual as I take a step back to put some distance between us and maybe relieve the temptation of ignoring my subconscious altogether and throw myself at her. "…it was nice meeting you"

She looks confused and something more...something very akin to disappointment. "Yeah" She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and looks up at me with those big, innocent eyes. She really has no idea how hot she is when she does that.

_Of course she does_, my subconscious snorts. _She's playing you, don't fall for it._

He's right again, as always. I can't lose it now. I've done good so far and now all I have to do is to say goodbye and I'll never have to see her again.

For some reason I can't quite explain, the thought gets me down.

I shake it off and take a few seconds to calm myself, before I shrug my shoulders, giving it my best effort to look cool, unaffected and maybe a little bored as I do so. "Guess I'll see you around"

_Ha! _My subconscious can't resist commenting on my cliché parting line. _Yeah, see you around…when hell freezes over. Bring a coat. _He's too busy laughing at his own joke to notice the knowing smile my heart has plastered onto his face.

I shift my focus from the constant battle inside of me as Ana mumbles something about seeing me around as well.

I grant myself permission to take one last look at her and imprint the vision of her in my mind, before I turn on my heel and start walking in the other direction.

_Good job, Christian_, my subconscious praises me. _She tried to be so coy and tempting, hoping you'd fall for it. Well, who's the fool now, huh?_

I come to a halt, having made a sudden decision, so sudden that my subconscious doesn't find time to come down from his ego-trip and try and stop me.

"Have dinner with me tonight" The words splutter out of my mouth as I turn around to face her again.

I can't believe the words coming out of my mouth. What am I thinking? I can't have dinner with her. I barely made it through coffee. Dinner would be pure torture.

Still, somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm hoping she'll say yes…

_Please say yes…_

My heart is smiling so wide it's threatening to split his face in half. Coming down from the shock, my subconscious covers his eyes with his palm. _So close Grey, so close…_


	6. Chapter 6

When I uploaded the chapters I missed one! There's a new chapter 4 out from Anastasia's point of view that I missed to include when I uploaded the chapters yesterday! Go check it out!

* * *

**Anger Management – Chapter 6  
**

Christian

* * *

Dinner. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. What was I thinking asking her to have dinner with me tonight?

I bend my head down and massage my temples with my fingers, hoping that'll relieve some of the tension that's threatening to blast my head into pieces. I must have gotten it wrong all along; I'm not a sadist – I'm a masochist, that's the only reasonable explanation as to why I'm doing this.

My subconscious and my heart are both quiet, lying stretched out on the floor, exhausted from the battles they've been fighting all afternoon.

I'm supposed to be angry with her. _To hate her. _To think about all the ways I want to punish her for what she did to me. Still…here I am, concerned with looking my best as I go to pick her up; wanting to make her weak at the fucking knees as she sees me.

What's wrong with me?

_Are you certain that this Anastasia girl is really the source of your anger? _The words from that charlatan psychiatrist rings through my head.

Of course I am. It makes all the sense in the world. She left and then there was pain. Her lies were brought into light and then there was anger. I don't give a rat's ass about his "_theories_".

After my first and only visit to his office, I looked into the procedure of getting his license withdrawn; making assumptions the way he did, he shouldn't be allowed to try and pass off as a real psychiatrist. Unfortunately, as it turned out, that procedure would probably result in me having to reveal details about my personal life in official records and as much I would want him forbidden to ever call himself a psychiatrist again, I cherish my privacy way too high to ever put it at risk. The important thing is that at least _I_ know he's the one that's crazy.

Ana is the source of my anger and I would want nothing more than to punish her, to make her pay for her mistakes. I've been living with that fact for years and I know it's true. A smile creeps onto my lips as a thought starts taking form inside my mind…

I take another look at myself in the mirror and nod as I see my reflection. Yeah, let's have some fun tonight. Whipping isn't the only way to punish someone…If done the right way, sexual frustration can be just as good a method.

I feel my cock harden as I think of what's to come. It might be a good idea to take that matter into my own hands, literally, before I'm off to pick her up. After all, tonight won't be about pleasure – it'll be about punishment and I have to be able to keep my cool if the punishment I have in mind is to be successful.

Having made my decision, I feel a lot better about tonight. Maybe all I needed was some sort of direction – a game-plan if you will – on how to act in her presence. Now, that that's figured out, I'm actually looking forward to this dinner.

* * *

A self-confident smirk is plastered on my lips as I pull the car up in front of her hotel. She's already outside, waiting. _That's good Miss Steele, I appreciate punctuality. _And of course, the fact that _you_ have been waiting for _me_. I suddenly wish I hadn't been so punctual…

I put the gear into park and step out to open the door for her. That's right, I've learned how to woo a girl. With my current mind-set I allow myself to take a look at her legs as she walks up to the car. I've entered into Dominant-mode and no matter how fucking amazing her legs look in those high heels and short black dress – it won't cause me to lose control. No. I'm on a mission tonight.

"You look amazing, Miss Steele" I tell her as I hold the door open and ushers for her to step inside. She blushes and looks down at her feet. _Oh, this is so easy. Why didn't I think of it before?_

Looking up again, she flashes a smile in my direction and it shoots right to the pit of my stomach, spreading a warm, fuzzy feeling. Clearly, I've underestimated my opponent. I ignore the feeling in my stomach as I return her smile without uttering a word.

"You look great too" She offers as she takes her seat.

Let the games begin, I think to myself as I close her door and walk around the car to my front seat.

_Just be careful, don't lose track on who's the leader of the game_, my subconscious warns me, but I know he's as thrilled as I am about finally getting to deliver some punishment to the delectable Miss Steele. Although, the punishment doesn't quite fit the crime – she deserves a much harder punishment for what she did. But, during the circumstances, this will have to suffice.

My heart shakes his head in silence, an incredible sadness filling his eyes. _Well, fuck you! _I tell him. _You're the one that landed us in this mess in the first place._

* * *

**Anger Management – Chapter 5**

Anastasia

* * *

My heart is beating what feels like a million beats per second and a whole farm of butterflies is raging around my stomach. How does he manage to cause that with just his presence and a few words?

He has changed so much since last time I saw him. Back then, at the launch party, he seemed to have calmed down, matured. Even when I turned him down and most possibly broke his heart, he was still calm, so far from the unattainable, tortured teenager I used to know.

But now…Now he's the perfect mix of that teenager whose kisses made me start thinking about taking The Step from kisses and making out into more adult activities and a matured man. Somehow, I find that combo completely irresistible.

I'm ripped away from my thoughts as he settles into the driver's seat next to me. His arm brushes against mine as he buckles his seat-belt. The touch sends a tingling feeling starting at the point of contact and spreading through my entire body. _Seriously…by a touch of his arm? _Does he feel it too?

I glance at him, but he seems completely unaffected as he manages the car off the side of the street and into the traffic. I close my eyes. I can't let myself get carried away when I have no idea what he thinks of me, of this dinner, of the possibility of an us.

His dinner invitation earlier today totally caught me with surprise. When he turned and walked away saying he'll see me around, I was sure that was the last I would ever see of him. During coffee and the walk to my hotel I got the impression he wanted nothing more to do with me and I was merely seconds away from bursting into tears over our obvious contradicting feelings for one another as he turned around and asked, no demanded, that I have dinner with him tonight.

"Enjoying the ride, Miss Steele?" I can practically hear the smirk in his voice as I realize I haven't opened my eyes since I closed them to give myself a chance to sort my thoughts out. I open them and my suspicions are confirmed; he's smirking. _Damn, he's sexy when he does that._

"Very much" I tell him.

And what's with the 'Miss Steele'-thing? We've known each other for years, we've dated, he was the first guy I ever went to second base with – we ought to be on a first name basis!

"You can call me Ana, you know" I turn to face him and his smirk is accompanied by a short laughter at a joke I'm apparently completely missing out on as he answers:

"I prefer Miss Steele if you don't mind"

I shrug my shoulders. I could never quite figure out what he was thinking, even when we dated, and maybe that was part of his charm.

"Do as you please" I offer and his smirk grows wider.

"I intend to do just that tonight, Miss Steele" He states and I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks…and oddly enough other parts of my body, located a little further south, as well.

How can four simple words sound so sexy?

I'm sure he didn't mean it that way, but the thought of him doing what he pleases with me I'm sure deepens the blush already present on my face. _What is wrong with me?_ I'm not one to usually read hidden sexual connotations into conversations. Hell, most of the times I don't even catch on when someone deliberately does that.

"Here we are" He shoots me a stunning smile I've never seen on his face before as he pulls up outside a restaurant.

I take a deep breath to steady myself as he gets out and hands his keys to the valet. When he comes around to open my door, I'm already on my way out. He tilts his head and there's a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. He seems to be in a good mood tonight, he's already smiled more times than I've ever seen him done before – all previous smiles combined. _That's a good sign_, I tell myself.

"Shall we?" He gestures towards the restaurant and then places his arm loosely around my waist. _Oh, God it feels good._ I glance up at him, hoping to see some sort of sign that he feels at least a hint of what I feel when he touches me…but nothing. His face looks like it's carved in stone, not a single emotion showing on it.

How is that? This strange, but oh so wonderful, almost electric tingling can't be a one-way feeling. It's just not possible.

"Mister Grey." The host greets him as we enter into the restaurant. It's obvious he's been here before.

Is this a place where he usually brings dates? The thought gets me down and suddenly his arm around my waist doesn't feel as great as it did just a few seconds ago. I'm not naïve enough to think he hasn't had dates since last time we met, of course he has, but still…

The host ushers for us to follow him into the restaurant and as we start walking, Christian bends his head down towards my right ear and whispers. "I usually bring business associates here for dinner meetings."

His warm breath against my ear almost makes me want to moan, it feels so intimate, so…sexual somehow. What has gotten into me? Why do I suddenly see sex everywhere I turn? And also: has he gained the ability to read minds?

Maybe it has something to do with the enormous amount of time that has passed since I last been on a date, or since someone looked at me in _that_ way. No, I take that last part back. No one has ever looked at me the way Christian does right now before, not even Christian himself. It's a raw, intense look that reeks with sex.

"Where are we going?" I whisper as I notice the host is leading us right by what seems to be the dining-area and continues up a set of stairs.

"You'll see" He whispers back with a secretive smile playing on his lips.

Well…duh…Obviously I'll see, but I wanted to know now – that's why I asked. "Aren't we eating here?" I try again and he raises his eyebrows when he turns to look at me.

"Curious, Miss Steele?" He answers my question with a question and I sigh. Apparently he won't tell me.

As we reach the top of the stairs, the host turns to Christian with an obliging smile. "I managed to free up our best room for you and your company, Mister Grey" He says, not without pride, as he leads us to a door and opens it.

Room? I thought we were having dinner?

"Thank you, Claude. I appreciate your efforts" Christian retorts and my confusion is replaced with something akin to awe as Christian leads me into the room. It's a beautiful, little private dining room.

In the middle of the room stands a round table covered with a white linen cloth and accompanied by two antique-looking white chairs I'm sure my grandmother would kill to be in possession of. The rest of the room is sparsely decorated with a few candlesticks on the walls and a sculpture that looks like it's been hand-picked right out of ancient Greece.

"Your waiter will be here to take your orders in a minute" Claude informs before he disappears out the door and closes it behind him.

With his arm still around my waist, Christian leads me towards the table and when he lets go of me it's only to grab the chair and hold it out for me. Who could have guessed that Christian Grey would have turned into a gentleman?

I thank him and smile as I sit down. Maybe that's what the whole Miss Steele-thing is about?

My breath hitches in my throat as I feel his fingers tracing along the shoulder straps of my dress down towards my back. I'm wearing a black dress that dips into a V in the back, revealing a lot of skin and right now Christian's fingers are following that V, sending exquisite shivers through my body. I close my eyes and focus on keeping my breathing steady. I can't let him know how affected I am when he seems to be so completely unaffected by my presence.

When his fingers reach the shoulder strap on the opposite side, he slides his hand slowly down the length of my arm and leans forward. "I really do like this dress, Miss Steele" He whispers in my ear, his warm breath brushing against my skin. I let out a deep breath I wasn't aware I'd been holding.

That's it. I can't be mistaken. He's seducing me. All the sexual connotations, all the tingling touches…they were deliberate. Christian Grey is trying to seduce me tonight, and so far I have to say he's doing a great job. I gulp as he goes to take his seat on the opposite side of the table.

Two can play that game, I think to myself, my confidence boosted now that his intentions are clear to me. I've never been any good with flirting, truth to be told I pretty much suck at it. But I've seen movies, I've read books, I do know the theoretical aspects of it. Besides, it's Christian. If I fail, the worst that could happen is that we'll get something to laugh about later on. Because right now, I feel safe in the assertion that there will be a later on for us. It has to be.

"I was hoping you would, Mister Grey" I try to lower my voice a few notches to make it sound deeper and seducing, the way it's always described in the books as I bat my eyelashes at him.

He flinches for the split of a second and I smile inwardly. I _do_ have an effect on him! I have a feeling this dinner will be the start of something truly amazing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Anger Management – Chapter 7**

Anastasia

* * *

What do you talk about when you're trying to seduce someone? Chit-chatting about work or the weather seems so mundane and boring. Shouldn't the conversation topic be one that spurs his imagination? Makes him think of me in _that_ way?

I pick up my fork and take a bite of the starter. It's some sort of shrimp concoction and it's absolutely delicious. Remembering something I saw in a movie once I make a low, moaning sound as I taste the food.

When the sound of my moaning reaches my ears I feel my cheeks heating up. _What a ridiculous thing to do!_ Why did I do that? That only works in movies – in real life, whether you're trying to seduce someone or not – you don't moan as you eat. No food is ever that good!

Cautiously, I tear my eyes away from the plate in front of me and cast a glance at Christian, half expecting to see him doubled-over from laughing so hard. God, I wish the ground would just open up beneath me and take me out of my misery.

To my relief, he's not laughing. Instead, he's staring at me with dilated eyes and I hear, rather than feel, a sharp intake of breath passing through my mouth as I meet his intense gaze. _Oh, my._

It only lasts for a couple of seconds, before he's back to stone-face. "Enjoying your food Miss Steele?"

I nod. "Very much so"

After my utterly embarrassing attempt at being a seductress we move on to small talk which lasts almost throughout the entire main course. Of course, the words we speak might seem innocent and harmless – but the way he looks at me every now and then makes me feel like I'm on fire.

He tells me about his work, how he started from scratch and built his own company – or, empire is probably more like it. I like the way his demeanor changes when he talks about his work – he looks excited, happy almost.

"Do you still write?" I ask, although I know for sure he hasn't published anything besides that first collection of short stories he sent me. But that doesn't mean he doesn't write though….

"No." His answer is short and his face hardens. There's a darkness in his eyes that makes me swallow back on the 'why?' that was at the tip of my tongue.

He looks right at me with those dark, almost turned to black, eyes and I can't help but shudder. It looks like pure hatred is shooting out of his eyes and straight at me.

My head hurts. I'm immensely confused.

I don't understand it. One second, he's right there, where I am; flirting and smiling, and I'm certain he wants the things I want; to give us another try. The next second, he turns to ice and I get the feeling he doesn't even want me here; that the option of giving us another try is so far out of the picture it's not even visible.

I have to know.

"Christian…" I start and when I look up to see the darkness replaced by a flirty smile, I almost change my mind. No. _You're stronger than that Steele. _"…what do you want, really?" There. It's out. Now it's up to him.

His smile disappears before my eyes, but he doesn't say anything. _Say something God damn it!_

"With us" I clarify, hoping that will help putting some words into his mouth.

_Come on Christian, please say something! I need to know what you're thinking._

* * *

**Anger Management – Chapter 7**

Christian

* * *

I stare at her, stunned. I'd never expected her to ever dare to ask something like that so upfront. I was sure our little flirting game would continue throughout the night and not end until I dropped her off all hot and bothered at her hotel.

_Divert, Christian! Divert!_ My subconscious screams.

"What do you mean 'with us'?" Not the best diversion, I'll admit, but at least it'll buy me some time to figure something out.

Her eyes drops and immediately, she starts fidgeting with the table cloth. "I mean…you and I…us…do you have…do you want…" The words come rushing out of her mouth. "I don't even know if you have a girlfriend" She darts her eyes up as she finishes her somewhat incoherent clarification.

I can't help but smile. "I don't have a girlfriend" At least that's a question I can answer honestly.

"Oh" A smile tugs at her lips. _Oh, Miss Steele, you're making this all too easy..._ Maybe sexually frustrated isn't all she'll be when I leave tonight, maybe I'll add some crushed hope and dreams into that combo, give her a taste of her own medicine. _An eye for an eye, Miss Steele._

"Me neither" She blurts out and her cheeks turn red. "A boyfriend that is" She explains.

I can't help myself. "What happened to…" I wave my hand, pretending to search my brain for his name; I know full well what his name is. "…Logan?"

I just want to hear it from her own lips. The lies.

"It didn't work out" She practically whispers.

_Of course it didn't – because you lied; to me, to him, to everyone. And we all believed you…_

"Huh" I don't know what else to say. Why can't she just admit that she lied?

_It didn't work out._

_We wanted different things._

_Our lives were heading in different directions._

Is she really stupid enough to think I don't see through all that? Cover-ups. Clichés.

"So what about you?" She asks, tearing me away from my thoughts.

I frown. "What about me, what?" Did I miss something?

"You must have dated since last time we met, anything serious?" _My, my Miss Steele, you surely are surprising me tonight with all of these questions I never imagined you'd dare to ask…_

Let me see…Have I dated since last time we met? I'm guessing play-dates in my playroom aren't the kind of dates she's referring to. Well, there was Kayla of course…

"A few years back there was a girl I dated" Yeah, saying I and Kayla dated wouldn't be a complete lye. We did that too. At first.

"Oh" She nervously starts chewing on her lip. _You didn't think I was pining for you all these years, did you Miss Steele?_

"What happened?" She asks, and I can clearly see her eyes widen as she speaks, guess she didn't really mean to ask that out loud.

Since she seems to be so attached to all of those break-up clichés I decide to offer her one in return. "Our lives were heading in different directions"

That's not a complete lie either…

* * *

_"__I want to try and be a Dominant" Kayla bursts out as we lie in bed together and I turn my head to look at her. She's dead-serious. I raise my eyebrows, she's not suggesting what I think she's suggesting, is she?_

_She starts laughing, her green eyes sparkling with glee. "I'm not saying I want to dominate you. I know you wouldn't be up for that" She laughs again. "But you should see the look on your face though"_

_She rolls around and before I know it, she's straddling me holding my hands above my head. I could easily break free; Kayla's a small girl and even though she makes sure to keep in shape, she isn't that strong. But I decide to humor her for now._

_"__See?" She says, smiling. "I could do this" She leans down and kisses me softly on the lips, her blonde hair falls down around her face and I feel it sweeping over me as she moves her mouth down to my neck._

_"__I've been a sub for the last five years, I think it's time I tried something new" She says in between kisses._

_Kayla is adventurous and always up to trying new things – I've learned a lot from her. I guess you could call her my anger management counselor. Or my savior. _

_"__So you're saying we should see other people?" I raise an eyebrow, smiling as she looks up at me. _

_There has never been any real feelings between us – other than lust or passion that is. She's my best friend and I don't know where I would be without her – and I won't deny that I truly enjoy dominating and fucking her – but I don't love her. And she doesn't love me either._

_Kayla smiles as well. "Yeah. I guess that's what I'm saying" There's a playful look in her eyes as she moves back up to my face and nibbles at my earlobe. "Unless you'd be willing to sub for me…" She whispers in a teasing tone and I know exactly what she's up to._

_Releasing my arms from her grip I quickly flip us around so that she's pinned under me. I hold her wrists in one of my hands and smile mischievously at her. _

_Yes, I'm going to miss Kayla…_

* * *

"Oh" Ana breathes out. "I'm sorry"

I shrug my shoulders. "I'm not. We ended on friendly terms" _Very friendly in deed…_ I smile at the memory.

"Good" Her eyes flicker around the room. "I'm glad"

"Me too"

The waiter comes into to clear our plates as we've finished with the main course.

"Ready for dessert?" I ask and she nods.

_Good._ I can't stop the smirk from sneaking onto my lips. _This is where the fun really begins…_


	8. Chapter 8

**Anger Management – Chapter 8**

Christian

* * *

How the hell did I end up here – in the elevator with Ana's eager body pressing against mine? Her lips, soft and wanting on my neck, my lips, my jaw, everywhere. _She_ was supposed to be hot and bothered, wanting, lusting – and I was supposed to leave; cool and unaffected. Where did it go wrong?

_You can still tell her to leave_, my subconscious tries to make his voice heard but the blood pulsating through my veins effectively drowns him out.

Leaning my head back, I hear myself moan as Ana's lips explore my neck. Were they always this soft? And what happened to that shy little girl I used to date? The girl that couldn't talk about sex without blushing?

I take her face in my hands and guide those amazing lips back to mine. _Just one more kiss, then I'll tell her to leave._

I have no idea how much time has passed, but when the elevator dings, signaling we've reached my floor, I'm still kissing her. Hesitating and with a feeling of loss I think I see reflected in her eyes as well, our lips part.

Simultaneously, we clear our throats and I smirk as Ana's eyes turns towards the floor and she blushes slightly as she straightens her dress out.

There's something about that blush. Something that always makes me want to see more of it, see how much deeper it can get. I take a deep breath. This is it. _Goodnight – you want me to call you a cab? _

I walk out of the elevator and just as I open my mouth to speak – she beats me to it. "Christian?"

She bites her lip and once again straightens out non-existing wrinkles on her dress. "What are we doing?"

I cringe. I know where she's getting at, but that's not something I'd rather discuss right now – or ever. "Having dinner" I smirk. "Kissing" She smiles as well and I shrug. "Catching up"

_Now_, my subconscious urges. _Tell her now!_ But somehow, the words don't find the way to my mouth.

Slowly and all while wringing her hands in front of her, Ana steps out of the elevator as well. She walks a few steps towards me before she stops, takes a deep breath and when she looks up at me, I see the determination in her eyes and I can't help but smile. I'm sensing one of her patented rambles is on the way. They always come around when she's nervous; or angry, or sad, or when any kind of emotion takes over really.

_I only like her rambles because that means she's nervous_, I try to justify my smile to myself. Both my heart and my subconscious are sending me disbelieving looks – well, at least they're agreeing on something.

"I don't know what kind of games you're playing, Christian" She starts and I have to admit I am a little bit surprised that she has the courage to address what's bothering her in such an upfront manner. The old Ana would never have done that; she would have rambled on about other, non-significant things before maybe, eventually getting to the point.

Somehow I feel robbed. _Where's the incoherent ramble I deserved?_

She takes the time to sigh deeply before she continues. "One minute you have me believing you feel the same things I do…" _So, she feels something._ I try to hide my smirk. "…and the next you're as cold as ice"

She shakes her head as she continues. "And I'm confused. What do you want, Christian?"

Before I have a chance to answer – not that I had intended to – she continues. "I don't want to play games anymore. I'm past that. I want something more"

_More._ That one word that has led to the termination of most of my contracts. _I can't give more._ To anyone.

"I don't know" She throws her hands out in a resigned gesture. "I guess I just want to know if we can move past everything that has happened in the past. If there's a chance for a future for us"

I'm guessing, by the look on her face, that my expression says it all. _Does she really think that I can forget and forgive The Betrayal?_

Her face falls and she takes a small step closer. "Did I hurt you that bad, Christian?"

I don't answer, simply because I don't know what to say. Yes, she did – but I don't want her to know that. My subconscious and my heart are both awkwardly silent, as if neither of them wants to get their hands involved in that discussion. _Traitors. _

"I thought…" Her voice sounds muffled and I want to turn around, unlock the door, run inside and slam it shut behind me. But I stand rooted to the spot.

She shakes her head. "I'm so sorry Christian. I never wanted…" She sighs. "I just…" She cuts herself of yet again and there are tears gleaming in her eyes.

_Come on,_ my heart finally speaks up. _Give her a break._

Still unable to say anything I do the only thing I can think of right now to make her stop talking. I launch myself forward and press my lips against hers once again.

* * *

**Anger Management – Chapter 8**

Anastasia

* * *

I'm momentarily taken aback when Christian literally throws himself at me and kisses me. Even though I know he's doing it because he doesn't want to talk, I can't not kiss him back. It's like a force of nature; when Christian Grey kisses you – you kiss him back.

Back when we dated, he did this very same thing every time a subject he didn't want to talk about came up; he distracted me with those sweet, sweet lips. I know I should push this subject; we really need to talk about where we've been and where we're going. But just like back then, his kisses are intoxicating and I can't stop. _Really, it's a wonder we have ever talked at all. _

Without his lips leaving mine even for a second, he pushes me back until my back hits the door to his apartment. His hands are roaming all over my body and I feel a little dizzy by the overwhelming feelings his touches stirs up. It feels so different from the tentative touches I remember. Back then, they were light and there was always a hint of questioning, of asking for permission, with every inch they discovered. These touches have nothing of that – they are determined, confident and _oh, so hot!_

I can literally feel my legs weaken as Christian's lips explore their way down my neck and if it weren't for his strong hold around my waist I would most probably fall to the floor and form a puddle of want and desire.

I've never experienced a feeling like this ever before, where everything, every conscious thought, is overshadowed by the want – no, the need – to feel more of him.

When Christian pulls back just about an inch to find the right key to unlock the door and let us in, I rest my head against his chest and try to gain control over my erratic breathing.

Without his lips against any part of my body it's easier to think clear. Still not as easy as it would have been had he not been standing only an inch away, but still…easier.

I don't know what I was thinking when I said yes to his invitation for a drink at his place. On a conscious level I told myself that a drink in a private setting was the perfect opportunity to discuss the giant elephant in the room; our past. But I have to admit, the tingling feeling in my stomach and further south, surely didn't originate from the thought of talking.

This is so unlike me. I've never considered myself as a sexual person. I never thought that part of a relationship would ever feel very important to me. Sure, Christian was the one that that got me starting to think about sex to begin with; about taking that step. But we never did. That perfect moment I think we were both waiting for never presented itself.

And then there was Logan. That was supposed to be all about the sex. Well, to begin with – he was a distraction. Someone to try and fill the void left in my heart after Christian; uncomplicated, no-strings-attached fooling around; but never beyond kissing and heated make-out sessions.

But the void seemed to be too big. Logan was sweet, care-free and always happy – a sharp contrast to Christian's troubled nature. But still, his kisses and touches didn't fill the void or make the longing go away. So I took the plunge.

Suddenly, I – the ultimate virgin – was having regular sex with a guy I wasn't even in a relationship with. Not that I wanted one. No. That was the reason I'd broken up with Christian – because it was too distracting having a relationship and managing my heavy study-load at the same time.

Logan filled my need for intimacy without demanding anything in return. The guy had about a dozen girls on speed-dial for Christ's sake. I was one of the many and I didn't care. It was all about sex. _I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised when he cheated on me even though it was him that practically begged me to give us a try as boyfriend and girlfriend._

I wonder what Christian would think if he knew. Right from the start he assumed that I was in a relationship with Logan. Of course he did; the thought of me having a fuck-buddy back then would be so far-fetched I'm not surprised it didn't cross his mind. And I was too embarrassed to admit that's what it was.

But even though that first year with Logan was supposed to be all about sex – it doesn't even begin to compare with this pressing need and want.

_Just go with it_, my heart whispers in a soothing voice. _It's Christian. It's you and Christian. The way it was supposed to be. It'll be alright. _That's all the confirmation I need to follow Christian into the apartment and pick up just where we left off outside the door.

When I place my arms around his neck and find his lips again, a deep guttural groan escapes him and he pushes me back up against a wall. His hips press against me and I can feel he wants me just as badly as I want him. The sheer knowledge ignites yet another flame inside me.

I don't know how long we stand there, pressed against the wall with our lips rediscovering the taste of each other. It feels as if we've been doing this forever and not long enough at the same time. _I can't get enough._ I wish I had another set of lips, because I can't decide which part of him tastes the best.

We part for long enough for Christian to pull his shirt over his head and before the discarded garment hits the floor, my hands and lips are all over his chest. I've never seen it bared like this before. _It looks amazing._

There have been touches before, hands sneaking up under shirts and feeling the chiseled muscles on his chest and stomach – but nothing like this. Not out in the open with no boundaries that needs to be respected.

I hear him moan my name as he brings my face back up to his again and the undeniable want that taints his voice is probably the sexiest sound I've ever heard. _How can a simple name sound so sexy?_

As a response to an encouraging tug from Christian's hands against my thighs, I wrap my legs around his waist, a little surprised at my own boldness, but as the move presses him closer to me I can't bring myself to feel ashamed or shy about it. It's like I've left Anastasia Steele somewhere in the elevator or the hallway and turned into this carnal being with the one objective to be as close to the man in front of me as physically possible in mind.

With his arms and hands supporting my weight under my thighs and behind he moves us away from the wall and carries me towards what I'm assuming is his bedroom. As he walks, it flitters through my mind that this is the part in a movie, where the scene would fade to black and leave it to the audience's imagination to figure out what was happening in the dark.

But this isn't a movie and as we reach his bedroom, Christian sets me down next to his bed and reaches to his side to turn on his bed-side lamp.

Something in his demeanor has changed, the feverish urgency with which he kissed me and pressed my body against his when he carried me is gone and he takes a step back to let his eyes wander over my body.

His intense gaze feels like fire on my skin and even though I'm still fully clothed I feel exposed and naked under his scrutiny. "Christian…" I begin, but he places a finger across my lips and smirks in a way that makes my heart race and my knees turn to jelly. _It's not fair that he can manage to do that with only a smirk._

"We have no hurry" He whispers in a raspy voice and I nod against his finger, not sure I'm able to form any coherent words at the moment.

Carefully, almost reverential, he moves his hands to remove the shoulder straps of my dress and bra before he leans forward to place soft, sweet kisses at my now naked shoulders one at a time.

_Oh, God._ The touch of his lips are so light and tender I feel like I'm about to burst with anticipation.

When he pulls the dress down, his lips slowly follow it, shooting delightful shivers through my body everywhere they touch. _Oh, God._ I close my eyes and lean my head back. I've never felt comfortable being naked in front of anyone. I'm always so self-aware, embarrassed and concerned about how I look – but now…I can't focus on any of those things. I can't focus on anything but the feeling of his warm lips against my skin.

Christian's kisses reach my hips and my breath hitches in my throat. He places a series of short, light kisses along the line of my panties and I'm not sure, but I think I let out some sort of incoherent sound.

He drops the dress from his hold and lets it fall to the floor. There's a tingling ache between my thighs and I wish I had the guts to push my hips forward and show him how badly I want him to touch me and sooth the aching need. But with the slowing of pace, Anastasia Steele seems to have found her way back from the hallway where I left her and I stand still, holding my breath.

I gasp loudly and feel like I might fall over when Christian places a feather light kiss on my panties before I assume my breathless waiting. But he leaves it at that and I want to cry out in frustration as I feel his hands sliding up my waist again.

"Open your eyes" He whispers and when I do, he's standing upright, his face only inches away from mine. "We have all night" He smirks and I feel my cheeks heating. _I didn't really push my hips forward, did I?_

He reaches behind my back and unclasps my bra before he slowly pulls it off. _How does he keep his calm? How is his every move slow and deliberate?_ It takes everything I have not to throw myself at him and pick up the frenzied, feverish pace from before.

Stepping closer, he carefully pushes me back until the back of my knees hit the bed and he lowers me on to it. _Oh, God._ _This is really happening._ I feel his weight on me as he follows me onto the bed.

His lips find mine for a short moment before he ventures down towards my breasts. I'm assuming he feels something similar to what I felt when I first saw his naked chest. _I hope he won't be disappointed._

The worry flies out of my head a second later when Christian's mouth has reached my breasts. _Shit!_ If I thought the tingling feeling when he kissed my hips was bad – it got nothing on this!

* * *

**Anger Management – Chapter 8**

Christian

* * *

I flick my tongue over her nipple and the moan I'm rewarded with almost sends me over the edge. _Fuck!_ I have to take a deep breath to remind myself that this is the one time I'll ever have Anastasia Steele naked before me; I have to prolong it, enjoy it to the fullest.

Yeah, the one time. That's the deal I made when the bickering between my subconscious and my heart grew too loud. This is for the teenage boy inside me; the one that never got past second base and couldn't stop dreaming about what it would be like if she'd let him go all the way.

I slowly move to her other breast and let my lips, tongue and teeth taste her delicious skin while I let my hand and fingers take my mouth's place at the breast I just left. Her soft moans are like music to my ears and I'm not sure I can hold out much longer.

All while dropping kisses along the way I move towards her panties and I smirk as I hear her moans turn into whimpers when I place a set of soft kisses on her thighs along the line of her panties.

I let a finger slide in under her panties. _She's so wet._ So ready for me. _Oh sweet God._ I force a deep breath into my lungs. She stirs and presses herself against my finger.

"Be still" I command and am taken a bit by surprise at the sound of my voice. So hoarse. So completely affected by her naked presence in my bed.

With some help from a very compliant Ana, I pull her panties off and lean down to taste her.

I don't know which is better; her delicious taste or the sounds she's making as I'm enjoying her taste.

"Christian" She moans my name and I decide that that's definitely what's best. No arguing about it. _It's been so long since someone moaned my name…_ Oddly enough, the thought of punishing her for it, the way I usually would, doesn't even cross my mind.

* * *

I blink a few times at the light flowing in through the big windows in my bedroom before I open my eyes. The first thing I see is Ana, sleeping next to me with her head leaning against my chest and her arm thrown across my stomach. My left arm is wrapped around her upper body, holding her close. My heart warms at the sight.

I glance over at the alarm clock next to the bed; it's still morning so I doubt I've slept very long. When we finally fell asleep; exhausted, sweaty and in each other's arms, dawn had already begun breaking.

What happened last night completely caught me off guard. I never expected I would fail at the little game I had planned. But somehow, it doesn't feel like I've failed; it feels like I've won the fucking lottery.

Last night I fucked Anastasia Steele – something I've wanted to do for the last ten years or so. I can't feel disappointed when that's what my failure led to. No matter how badly I wanted to punish her, I can't deny that I wanted to fuck her even more.

I pinch my eyes shut and sigh. _No._ It doesn't matter what I try to tell myself: we didn't fuck last night – we made love.

We made fucking love. _I don't make love._ Not anymore. Not ever if I'm to be completely honest.

But it felt amazing. I can't deny that no matter how much I want it. I never knew sex could feel that good – and believe me, I've had a lot of sex. Good sex to that as well. _But this was different. _Completely different.

_Fuck!_

I should have listened to my subconscious and told her to leave while I still had the chance. Now it's too late. Now I know what she feels like, what she tastes like, and I don't ever want her to leave.

_Fuck!_ My heart starts racing in my chest.

What if she'll leave again? I repress the sudden urge to tighten my embrace around her. That won't stop her from leaving. No. She'll feed me another lie and then she'll be gone. Just like before.

She'll be gone and I'll be alone. Just like before.

I move my head closer to her head and inhale a deep breath of her scent. I've missed that scent. _Oh God, how I've missed that scent._

For the longest time, I lie like that, reveling in her presence. I know it won't last long. As soon as she wakes up, she'll leave. I know she will. She always does.

I feel like I've been thrown back in time to that moment right before she left. Before she told me about _him_. Before she lied. I remember the happy, giddy feelings inside when I thought she'd come to stay. I remember how they all turned into utter despair when she left – magnified a thousand times due to the happiness they sprung from.

This time, I know what's coming and I will be prepared. I will savor every moment and imprint it in my mind and when she wakes up I will listen to her lies and I will let her go.

I take a deep breath and pinch my eyes shut. _I hope she never wakes up._

_Look what you've done!_ My subconscious suddenly screams out, pointing an accusing finger in the direction of my heart. _Yesterday he was king of the fucking world; confident and in control. Today he's a mess, all because he listened to you! _He turns to me with a posture resembling that of some sort of a military officer. _You!_ He commands. _Get a grip! Regain control before she finds out you've lost it. _

I open my eyes again. _Yes._ Thank you. That's what I have to do.

Guided by my subconscious who has stepped in and demanded control, I disentangle myself from Ana and climb out of bed, careful not to wake her, and get started on forming a plan to regain control over the situation.

* * *

Sitting in my home office, I already feel more in control. It's easier when _she_ is not lying next to me with nothing but a thin, white sheet covering her delicious body.

Mistake number one was underestimating the power she still holds over me. _I hate that._ I hate that her presence clouds my judgment and makes me feel like a horny, needy teenager all over again.

Mistake number two was giving into that tiny little voice telling me I could have just one, small little taste of her before I sent her out of my life forever. _Around her I'm like an addict; one taste will never be enough._

_And now I'm hooked again._ Fuck! I slam my fist against the desk. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! All this work I've done, everything I've become to distance myself from the pathetic, broken shadow I became when she left – it took her less than a day to tear that down.

No. I shake my head. I can't let this destroy everything. I can't let _her_ destroy everything. Not again. This time around – I'm stronger than that. This time around, I won't buy in to her lies like a love-sick little puppy.

_Maybe…_A thought enters my mind.

_No._ I shake my head again. _She_ would never agree to that. Ever. Besides, I have no desire to let her know just how twisted I've become since she broke me.

I'm not ashamed of the way I've chosen to lead my life. But with _her_…

_Isn't that what you've always wanted?_ My subconscious screams at me, gesturing wildly with his arms in the air.

Is it?

_"__I think you're projecting your anger"_ Suddenly, I'm back at the charlatan's office and I can see myself staring at him, making sure my eyes display exactly what I think of his ridiculous theories. The charlatan doesn't divert his eyes.

No. I get out of my chair and start pacing the room. No. He's fucking insane. I've stated that already. There's not an ounce of reality to his insane theories.

It is _Ana_ I want to punish. No one else. I want Anastasia Steele on her knees, eager to please. To please me.

I want Anastasia Steele tied up and begging for me to touch her. Me. No one else. Only me.

I want Anastasia Steele finally realizing the mistake she did all those years ago and willing me to punish her for the pain she caused.

That's what I want. That's why this lifestyle appeals to me.

Filled with a new-found energy, I sit down at my desk again and start up my computer. Yes. That's what I want, and now I will finally make that happen. _And it will be better than any fantasy I've ever had…_


	9. Chapter 9

A huge thanks to **DottiG** for beta-ing my stories and making sure everything is grammatically correct and makes sense!

* * *

**Anger Management – Chapter 9**

Anastasia

* * *

I sit on the side of the bed, with the sheet wrapped tight around me, trying to decide whether to stay in the bedroom until Christian comes back or to go look for him.

I was disappointed this morning when I woke up to find the spot next to me in bed empty. I have dreamt for so long about waking up next to him; to look into those amazing gray eyes the second I opened my eyes. Or maybe get to watch him sleep, all relaxed and unaware of anyone observing him. Or to feel his lips press against mine before I'm even thoroughly awake.

So many scenarios of this moment have played out in my dreams, both awake and asleep, but waking up alone to find him gone was never one of them. I sigh.

I'll most probably drive myself crazy if I'm to sit here and wait for his return. I stand up and re-wrap the sheet to properly cover myself up before I leave the bedroom to go search for Christian.

Upon exiting the bedroom, I hear a clattering sound – no doubt someone hammering away at a keyboard. It's a familiar sound that instantly makes me feel at home. It's the sound of work, of an editorial staff pushing its limits to get the articles ready in time for the next issue.

I smile as I walk towards the sound and slowly push open a door to what appears to be a home office. In there, Christian is sitting behind a large desk. The hammering at the keyboard has stopped and his intention is focused on the screen of his computer.

He's completely wrapped up in whatever's on there and I take the time to watch him. His dark copper hair is ruffled and both my heart and my cheeks heats up as I remember my hands running through it last night; my fingers gripping at it when the sensations of his tongue and lips got to be too overwhelming.

There's a serious look on his face – very different from the loving Christian I saw last night – but it makes him look incredibly sexy.

I decide it's time to make my presence known, before I manage to get myself too aroused to be able to focus on the things we have to talk about. _It's weird it's even possible seeing as we just made love all night._

"Hi." I smile and lean against the doorframe.

Looking up from his computer, Christian nods towards me. "Good morning Miss Steele."

I cringe. After last night we should definitely be on a first name basis. I open my mouth to tell him so, but my words stuck in my throat as he speaks first.

"Please, sit down." He gestures towards a chair in front of the desk and all while nodding, I comply. Something's changed. He feels different from last night. A chill runs through my body and grips at my heart. _What if he regrets what happened?_

Once I'm seated, Christian takes his eyes off the computer to look at me. "Last night was a mistake," he simply states, confirming my worst suspicions and I feel something inside me slowly dying a painful death. I think it's my heart.

"Oh," I turn my gaze towards the floor, willing myself not to cry. _I really wish I had taken the time to put clothes on before I went to look for him._ I feel so bared like this, so vulnerable. I tug at the sheet, wrapping it tighter around me.

"I have changed, Ana." His voice is deep and has the slightest hint of sadness in it. As does his eyes, I realize when I finally dare to look up and meet them.

We sit in silence for a long time, staring into each other's sad eyes. I don't know what to say. We just made love and now he tells me it was a mistake. What am I supposed to say to that?

I watch as he takes a deep breath and his appearance changes. The sadness in his eyes is gone and instead a darkness has taken over. A darkness I've only ever seen in them whenever the subject of his mother comes up. I gulp.

"I don't do love or romance anymore," he informs me and thoughts of last night come flowing into my mind, his tenderness, his cherishing kisses; the soft look in his eyes. _What was that if not love?_

"What about last night then?" I hear myself whisper the words out loud.

He sighs. "It was a mistake." He repeats and the statement hurts every bit as much as it did the first time. "I normally don't do that."

"What do you normally do?" The question slips out before I have a chance to stop it. _Do I really want to know?_

"I could tell you…" His eyes don't leave mine for even a split of a second and there's a tiny smirk playing on his lips. "…but I need you to sign something first."

S_ign something?_ I stare at him, not knowing what to say. "Sign something?" I finally ask.

"Yes." He opens a drawer in his desk and pulls a paper out, suddenly very business-like. "A non-disclosure agreement," leaning forward, he hands me the paper.

"Why?" I take the paper without looking at it. "Are you a secret agent or something?"

He chuckles, "No, not exactly, just very keen on keeping my private life private."

In some twisted way, that makes sense. He has always protected his privacy; getting him to talk about himself or his life before he was sent to live with his uncle is usually like pulling teeth. But isn't this a bit excessive?

I skim through the paper. I've come across agreements like this a few times before and the journalist inside me wants to hand the paper back to him unsigned – but this is Christian, I remind myself. It's not like I came here to write a story about him. "Do you have a pen?" I ask and he gestures towards a pen holder on his desk.

Taking a deep breath, I reach for a pen, sign my name on the NDA and hand it back to him.

"Just to clarify…" He says as he takes the paper. "…this agreement isn't only to make sure my name doesn't end up in the papers – the non-disclosure regards anyone you might talk to, Kate, your mother…"

I nod, but an uneasy feeling starts spreading in my stomach. _What is it that makes him go through such measures to assure that no one finds out what he does instead of love and romance?_

Christian takes a deep breath. "I normally don't make love like we did last night." He starts and I hold my breath, waiting for what's to come. _What if it's something illegal?_ "I only fuck. Hard."

I feel myself blush at his words. I'm not a prude or anything, but the carnality in which he says it does something to me – not to mention the faint tingle between my thighs at the mention of last night. But that isn't so bad it needs an NDA, is it? Everyone…fucks…hard every now and then, right?

"I also don't have girlfriends…" He continues and I feel my heart drop. _Weird, I thought it died when this conversation started._ "…I have submissives."

Submissives? I'm pretty sure I look anything but intelligent as I stare at him while searching my brain for any connotations to that word. "Wh-" I start, but hearing how squeaky my voice sounds I take a moment to clear my throat before I continue. "What's the difference?"

Christian smirks and tilts his head to the side. _Okay, obviously that was a stupid question._

"The relations I have with my submissives is purely sexual and is defined by a set of rules I expect them to follow. I'm assuming you've never heard of BDSM?"

I shake my head, not sure I'm able to form any words at the moment.

"I am what you would call a Dominant." He says, and even though I know what the word means and stands for, my brain refuses to put the pieces together.

"I exercise control over the women that choose to become my submissives." He explains and slowly but reluctantly, my brain starts to catch up. "After an initial meeting where we establish the ground rules for the relationship she's to obey my every wish and command and face the consequences if she fails to do so."

My head feels completely empty, void of all thoughts. "So they're like your slaves?" I say the only words that come to mind.

His smirk disappears and he shakes his head. "No. That's not what this is about. They do it willingly because that's the way they like it. It's a mutual agreement between two consenting adults."

I bury my face in my hands. _This is too much._ I can't take it all in. Especially not after the way he made love to me last night. I don't think I've ever felt this confused before in my life.

* * *

**Anger Management – Chapter 9**

Christian

* * *

Say something. Please say something. _Anything._ I stare at Ana across the desk, her head is still buried in her hands.

"But why?" Her eyes seem to have doubled in size when she finally uncovers her face and looks up to meet my eyes.

I sigh.

_Because she left. Because she lied. Because she broke you. _My subconscious offers a number of answers to her question, none of which I feel comfortable sharing with her.

_Because you're afraid_, my heart decides to chime in. _You need the control, because you're terrified of losing it – of losing her again – of getting hurt._

I ignore them both. "Because that's the way I like it"

She chews on her bottom lip for a few seconds. It feels like an eternity and I worry she'll bite a hole right through that lip.

"Have you…" Her words turn into silence as she gathers the courage to continue. "Have you always…liked it like that?"

I think I know what she's getting at. She wants to know if this is what I really wanted when we dated back in high school.

"No." God no. All I wanted back then was _her_, wholly and completely, nothing more, nothing less. To make her mine, to be her first; that way I would always have been special to her. I would have meant something.

She nods slowly and silence ensues for the longest time.

"I need coffee." She finally utters in a tired voice as her head slumps back down into her hands.

I can't help but smirk despite the anxiety I feel over having revealed my deepest, darkest secret to the girl who broke me._ Of course she needs coffee._ What was I thinking starting this kind of conversation with Anastasia Steele before she's had her morning dose of caffeine?

"Let's go make some breakfast." I stand up from my chair and at the same time Ana takes her hands away from her face and nods.

"I just need to…" She gestures awkwardly towards the sheet she has wrapped around her. "…go get changed."

I smirk as I walk closer to her. "That's a shame, Miss Steele." I stop just as she stands up from her chair, holding the sheet in a firm grip. I lean closer and lower my voice to a whisper. "I really like that freshly fucked look you have on."

I hear her gasp behind me as I pick up my walk towards the kitchen, grinning wide. I feel a million times better than I did when I woke up this morning. _I have gained control over the situation yet again._

In the kitchen I start making a batch of pancakes, remembering how they used to be her favorite breakfast food. A smile creeps onto my face as I remember her coming into the diner where I worked to scrape up some pocket money every morning before school to order pancakes and a coffee to go. Her mother wasn't much of a cook and I thank God for that, since that allowed me plenty of time to admire Anastasia from behind the counter before I finally dared to make a move. I sigh. _Those were the happier times._

Both the coffee and the pancakes are finished and set on the table before Ana comes walking into the kitchen, tugging on her bottom lip and with her phone in her hand.

"Breakfast is ready." I inform her and gesture towards the table. Without saying a word, she sits down, still with her phone in her hand – her eyes darting between the screen of it and me.

Something's not right. "What is it?" I feel a nervous flutter in the pit of my stomach, but decide to ignore it.

She inhales a deep breath, before she finally answers. "Are you a sadist?"

_Yes_, my subconscious quickly answers. Luckily, she can't hear him. "Where's this coming from?" I ask, carefully avoiding the question, the answer will probably send her running for the hills.

She holds her phone up. "I Googled BDSM and Wikipedia says the S in the acronym stands for both submission and sadism. See." She holds the phone in front of me showing a picture with the letters BDSM and the explanations of the terms underneath it.

I sigh. Of course she Googled it. She's a reporter – she craves information almost as much as I do. Information is her security blanket.

"So…are you?" She repeats her question with her innocent blue eyes fixed on me.

"I'm a Dominant." I repeat and she eyes me warily.

"And the sadism?" She urges, seemingly stuck on that one aspect of the acronym.

"It's part of the package." I try to explain, there's no need to mention it's the most important part of the package as far as I'm concerned.

Her eyebrows knit together, forming a little v on her forehead. "What package?"

"Pleasure and pain," I shrug. How can I explain this to _her_? The most innocent girl I've ever met. "There's reward for following the rules and punishment if you don't."

Her eyes widen at the mention of punishment, but she doesn't say anything.

"Now, eat your breakfast." I nod towards her plate and she puts her phone away and digs in, but she keeps looking at me sideways with a concerned look in her eyes.

We eat in silence for a couple of minutes before Ana puts her fork down and takes a deep breath. "Do you…" She cuts herself off, shaking her head.

I put my fork down as well and turn to look at her, she's biting on that delicious lip and it's hard not to get lost in the memory of how _I_ bit that lip last night.

Taking another deep breath, she tries again. "Do you have a submissive right now?" She doesn't look me in the eyes as she asks and it's not until then that I remember Lana. What Ana and I did last night was in fact a violation of my contract with Lana – we both signed a contract saying we wouldn't engage in sexual activities with anyone else during the term.

_How could I be so stupid?_ Here I am, about to convince a girl – _the_ girl – to sign a contract with me while I'm still bound by one. I shake it off, deciding that that's a later problem. One I will deal with as soon as possible though.

Ana's voice snaps me back to reality and I realize she's in the middle of a nervous rambling. "…'cause I asked that yesterday at dinner and you said 'no' but you also said just now that it's a difference between a girlfriend and a submissive and that you don't have girlfriends." She drifts off and I feel her blue eyes boring into me.

"Yes, I have a submissive." Did I imagine or was it a streak of disappointment that just flittered across her face?

"Oh." There's definitely disappointment in that short sound. I have to repress a content smirk.

"I will terminate that contract the next time I see her though." I say and for a short moment Ana's eyes meet mine before they dart back to her plate.

"Oh." She says again, but not sounding as disappointed as before. "Did she not obey your rules?" She still refuses to look at me as she speaks.

I smirk. _This is it._ This is when I tell her I want _her_ to be my submissive. My heart starts pounding in my chest and I feel like I'm about to faint. My subconscious holds his breath in anticipation.

"That's not it," I say, surprised at how steady my voice sounds.

"It's not?" Her voice is weak and trembling and I'm guessing she's sensing what's to come.

"No," I shake my head. "You see, these relations I have with my submissives are monogamous and as there is someone else I'd like to be my submissive…" I hear a sharp intake of breath next to me, telling me she's probably getting the not-so-subtle hint. "…I have to terminate the contract I have with this girl."

"So-someone else?" She stutters and there's fear and confusion in her eyes as she looks up at me.

"Yes," I meet her eyes without budging an inch. "I want you to be my submissive, Anastasia."

She gasps and her hand darts up to cover her mouth. "No," she shakes her head. "No, I-I can't…" She keeps shaking her head. "That's not what I…" She pushes her chair back, but doesn't stand up. "No."

I take a deep breath to steady myself. "Calm down, Ana." I urge, but she doesn't seem to hear me.

I reach out to touch her shoulder, but she flinches back. "No." She repeats the one word as a mantra.

"Ana, listen." I try and she draws a long, shaky breath and then turns to look at me. "I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do."

My subconscious rolls his eyes, but I ignore him and continue: "After last night, I realized I really want you in my life again – but this is the only way I can allow that."

_You're giving away too much_, my subconscious warns me and I acknowledge warning. I won't let her know just how badly I want – no _need_ – this, especially not the real reason I want her to agree to this: the prospect of finally getting to punish the girl that broke me.

Ana shuts her eyes and resumes the head-shaking.

"Ana, please talk to me." I urge and she opens her eyes again.

"The only way?" Her eyes are sad and I repress the want to take her in my arms and consol her – make her happy and smiling again.

I nod and she shakes her head one last time.

"I don't…I can't…I've only read about two paragraphs from a Wikipedia-article – I-I don't even know what this is about."

I nod. _I can understand her concern._ "You know you can ask me anything you might wonder, right?"

"I don't know. I just…I think I need some time."

"Okay." I nod again, more enthusiastic this time. _She hasn't run. She's still here. She needs time – but she hasn't left._ "You can use the computer in my office if you want to do some more research on the subject and I can give you a copy of my contract if you want to look through…"

Holding her hand up, she cuts me off. "I think I need some time alone. To think."

_No._ "How much time?" I scold myself as I hear the worry evident in my voice.

She shrugs. "I don't know."

Not knowing what to say, I simply nod again, trying to convince myself that even though she needs time alone, it's not the same thing as her leaving. _I'm not doing a very good job._

"Christian…" She reaches out to put her hand on mine. "…I just need some time, okay?" Were my fears that obvious? _I really need to get a grip._ "You have to understand this is quite a shock to me. I need time to process." She continues.

I take a deep breath as I think it through. Of course she needs time; I did too when Kayla first introduced me to all of this. "Give me a minute and I'll drive you back to your hotel." I say and wait for her to nod in confirmation before I push my chair back, stand up and leave the room.

* * *

By the time I pull my car up in front of Ana's hotel, I have practically convinced myself that this is the last time I'll ever see her. She'll come to her senses and run as fast as she can in the opposite direction – this time she'll have a valid reason for running though.

I hear the click as Ana unfastens her seatbelt and I don't know what possesses me when I reach over, place my hand on the nape of her neck and pull her closer for one last kiss. Maybe it's the conviction that this is the last time I'll see her or maybe it's my last attempt of trying to convince her to come back once she's done thinking. All I know is that she tastes wonderful and I never want to stop.

Eventually I do however stop, but only because we're in a car on a crowded street outside her hotel and way she kissed me back I'm not sure how much longer this would have been only kissing.

There's a slight blush on her cheeks as she reaches to grab her handbag.

"Here" I reach for the glove compartment and take out the folder I placed in there when we entered the car at my place. "It's a copy of my contract." She starts to protest, but I speak before she has a chance to. "For research purposes – there's a lot of freaks on the internet and this…" I wave the folder. "…will help to guide you when you do your research."

She nods and takes the folder when I hand it to her.

"And remember…" I remind her as she opens her door to step out. "…contact me if you have any questions – any at all – use my phone or email or whatever you'll feel most comfortable with, okay?"

She nods again and steps out onto the street.

"Promise?" I ask and my subconscious glares at my pathetic begging. _I'll make it up to you as soon as she agrees to the contract_, I promise him. I just need to make sure she won't leave again.

"Promise." She says with an obviously forced smile before she closes the door and leaves.

* * *

**A/N:** As this is a pretty important chapter – where Christian's secret is revealed – I was thinking about making the next one into a rewrite of this but with reversed roles (Ana's pov where Christian's is now and vice versa) so you'll get to follow their complete train of thoughts throughout it all, but I'll only do that if that's something you feel you want or need – so let me know so I can get started!


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you all for your reviews! They inspire me to keep writing!

It seems like a majority of you don't feel the need for a rewrite of the previous chapter, so I'll skip that. I might go back and write that later for those of you that wanted one, but for now – let's move on!

I apologize for the wait for this chapter. Things got in the way and real life demanded my attention and time. I'll try my very best to make sure it won't go this long between updates again.

I know this is a short chapter, but I felt I needed to post something to get back into it. I promise the next one will be longer and coming soon!

* * *

**Anger Management – Chapter 9**

Anastasia

* * *

After arriving at my hotel room I find myself standing in the middle of it not knowing what to do next. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this? I take a deep breath and feel my shoulders sagging as I blow the breath out.

It feels like I'm missing a vital part here. I should be freaking out right now. I should be crying or screaming or anything as a reaction to all my dreams being crushed into little pieces in front of me. But I feel strangely numb.

This entire morning feels so surreal I'm not sure it really even happened at all. Maybe I'm still asleep and dreaming and any minute now I will wake up and feel Christian's warm body next to mine. _The way the morning after we made love for the first time should be like._

I pinch my eyes shut and take another deep breath. _This can't be real._ My Christian, my sweet, smart, amazing Christian. _This can't be real._ I pinch my eyes so hard my face distorts into a grimace. _This can't be real. This can't be real._

With one final deep breath I open my eyes again. _This is real._ Christian is a cheater and a sadist and last night wasn't making love – it was a mistake.

The contract he gave me and that I'm still clutching in my right hand feels like it weighs a ton. _What kind of weird things is he into if a contract is required?_ I sigh. _Do I really want to know?_

_No. _I shake my head slowly from side to side. It can't be. The Christian I knew would never hurt anyone. Sure, there was the occasional school-yard fight when we were teenagers, but that was more a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing rather than a sadistic feature.

And cheating? That isn't him. _Do they call it cheating?_

_What else would they call it? _He slept with me even though there is another girl in his life. It doesn't matter that he calls their relation purely sexual – it's still cheating. He cheated and he made me his accomplice. I feel my stomach starting to churn and I feel nauseous.

No. I shake my head again. I can't do this. Not now. I decide that the rational thing to do is to push these thoughts aside and focus on my main reason for being in New York in the first place: job interviews. I have one more left today and it's the one I want the most. It's for The New York Times Features section.

With just the smallest hint of hesitation, I place the contract in the trash can, and instead grab my resume and the research I did about the paper as preparation from the side-table where I placed them yesterday and spread the papers out in front of me as I sit down on the bed. Although I'm pretty sure I have memorized most of the facts about the paper, I start reading through my research again hoping it will help keep my mind busy until it's time to get ready for the actual interview.

It takes about three minutes before I give up, throwing the papers aside. It's useless. I can't concentrate. Besides, I doubt I will gain any advantages at the interview only because I memorized the exact date the paper was founded or the fact that it has won no less than 112 Pulitzer prices.

As if pulled in by a magnet, my eyes wander from the papers in front of me towards the discarded contract in the trash can. _How bad can it be?_

I did promise him I would look through it. I sigh. I also said all I needed was some time. _What amount of time would ever make this okay?_

I tear my eyes away from the trashcan and its frightful contents and decide to go take a long shower to clear my mind and hopefully wash away any last trace of the past 24 hours. My interview is only two and a half hours away and if I take my time I could probably busy myself getting ready until it's time to leave.

* * *

It's almost midnight when I finally stumble back into my hotel room. The interview went well and I decided to celebrate that at the hotel bar; or rather I decided to try and avoid the elephant in my trashcan…can you change the saying like that?

I stop outside my door with my keycard in hand to think about it. _The trashcan-elephant in the room. _No. All while giggling to myself, I try it a few different ways until I settle for _the elephant in the trashcan in the room._ Yes. That's what the contract is. An elephant in a trashcan in the room. Very content with myself, I take a step towards my door and unlock it with the keycard.

Walking in, I close the door behind me and take a few steps into the room before I stop, engaging in a staring match with the trashcan-elephant. I can try and ignore it and avoid it all I want – but the attempts are futile. Christian has called three times tonight, to ask what I think about his contract, no doubt. I didn't answer any of his calls.

I sigh. _What do I think about it?_

I think it's weird and strange and wrong and wrong and weird and strange and wrong. My mind spins around in a loop. Cheating and sadism and rules and punishments and cheating. I feel nauseous again.

_Oh, God._ I cover my face with my hands to try and stop the room from spinning. It doesn't work, if anything – it makes the spinning worse. And the spinning makes the nausea worse. _Why did I drink so much?_

_Oh, yeah. _Because of the cheating and the sadism and the rules and the punishments and the cheating.

The nausea reaches a point of no return and I launch forward, grabbing onto the closest thing at hand as the drinks I've been pouring down my throat all night decides to resurface. It isn't until I'm kneeling on the floor, dry-heaving as there's isn't anything more left in my stomach that I realized I've puked all over the elephant in the trashcan.

The situation I'm in is far from funny, but I can't help it; I start giggling uncontrollably the second the dry-heaves stop. I'm laughing and giggling so hard my stomach hurts and I can't stop it. _I guess my opinion about the contract has been expressed._

* * *

**A/N:**

I just have to add a little note based on the reviews I received when I posted this chapter:

When I start writing a story I have most of the major plot points already thought out; among others what the ending will look like and the major outline of how they will get there. I won't change the direction of my story only because someone doesn't like the turns it's taking and is threatening to stop reading if it goes in that direction or if my characters do this.

I love getting reviews and hearing your thoughts but I will continue to write this story the way I have planned it from the beginning whether I have 1 or 1000 readers by the time I reach the final chapter (of which a large part is already written) because the reason I write is because _I'm _excited and thrilled about the plot I came up with and want to share it with you.

I'm off the roof-tops happy if anyone at all likes my story, but if you don't – you don't have to read it. If you think my story is disgusting: stop reading it. There are plenty of other really great stories out there.

If you have questions about the plot or feel you don't want to continue reading unless the story is going in the direction you want - feel free to log in and PM me or ask in a review and I will answer, but I'm sorry – I won't change any of the major plot points.

In this story….the last chapter was actually the very first thing I wrote. The rest of the story came afterwards as I tried to pin out how to get it there.

Okay. Rant over – thanks for reading!


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